


Regeneration and decline

by embeer2004



Series: A vampire, his blood-brother and his witcher [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Book Spoilers, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Missing Scene AU, Regeneration, Witcher level violence, description of injury, set during first game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 05:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13606293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embeer2004/pseuds/embeer2004
Summary: During the first two years, Regis’ regeneration actually went pretty fast considering that his body had been completely destroyed. Dettlaff would have nightmares for a long time, though, because of what happened at the end of the second year. It caused a major decline in his friend's condition and resulted in a much slower recovery process. Dettlaff was determined to make sure something like that would never happen again.





	Regeneration and decline

**Author's Note:**

> There are different sources indicating timelines, but what I went with for this story was that in 1268 (The Lady of the Lake), Regis was killed by Vilgefortz. In the year 1270 Geralt escaped the Wild Hunt and was found by the witchers of Kaer Morhen (beginning of the first game). Interestingly, this would place Regis somewhere around his second year of regeneration, assuming Dettlaff found him not too long after he was killed. That’s what I’m going for here.
> 
> I’m not a Witcher-ologist, I haven’t yet read all the books but I have played the games. Let’s just say I love these two vampires to bits and refuse to remember my first play-through when I got that darned bracelet from that swindler!
> 
> On the story, I hope you enjoy it! :)

**The first year  
  
** Regis only experienced few conscious sensations in the first year of his regeneration.  
  
At first he’d felt like a sloshing, cold fog; timeless, senseless and oh so _cold_. Vulnerable. Until it changed when a sensation reached out towards his sloshing self, encompassed him, made him feel warm and safe. Is started moulding him into a shape – _back_ into a shape. The shape he had had before, before… _something_.  
  
He gradually became aware of more than just warmth and safety.  
  
First he noticed smells; smells of earth and water reminding Regis too much of the cold, unpleasant, nothingness. He vaguely remembered that other smells should exist, but wherever they were, they were far away from him. The warm and safe impression that seemed to be always around had a particular, _different_ , scent to it; Regis dubbed it the _warm_ _smell_ and preferred to focus on that whenever he could. Sometimes the scent became stronger and the warm feeling became a near blazing heat all over his shape. That was so much better than the cold void.  
  
It started making sense one time when Regis recognised that the warm feeling was another body and he was leaning against it. Sometimes a part of the other body would vibrate softly for a bit, suddenly stopping, alternating between the two states. Every time he was held like this a large hand would gently guide Regis’ head to a comfortable and _warm_ place, lightly pressing down. Urging. Yet Regis didn’t know what for; content to simply soak up the warmth and the nice smell until his consciousness slipped away.  
  
One time he awakened from his fuzzy existence and realised he was again being held against the nice warm body. This time there was arm around his back supporting him and holding him upright. Something cold and metal smelling touched his lips and was tilted upwards and a warm liquid entered his mouth; viscous, salty… That’s when he remembered taste. How silly he’d forgotten, it was so very similar to smell after all. He drank until he was tired and the cold thing disappeared. The grip around him shifted, moving him to a more comfortable position and once his head was positioned _just right_ in the comfortable place again sharp nails started gently carding through his hair, soothing... lulling him into an oblivious sleep.  
  
Another time Regis awoke to the now familiar on-and-off vibration under his chest, but this time it was accompanied by a deep rumbling voice. “… the katakan pups are doing well. Siarra told me to tell you to recover soon and meet our pack, _your_ pack. She’s delivered some clothes you’ll be able to wear soon and she’ll back in a month with more news.” Regis burrowed his head further into what he by now considered _his_ comfortable nook on the warm body, listening to the voice drone on and letting sleep claim him.  
  
Lastly, sight returned. At first Regis only saw dark shadows and some small, light flickering blotches. The light blotches hurt, but then, he was pretty used to pain by now; it had been his constant companion ever since his body had stopped sloshing. One dark shape was getting bigger and it was all very confusing, but when the warm familiar smell reached his nostrils and the deep voice greeted him Regis remembered that bodies and objects had shapes that could be _seen_. “Ah good.” He saw a small fuzzy blob reaching towards him and a moment later he felt fingers underneath his chin, lifting, while a thumb stroked lightly at his temple. A bigger blob, attached to the fuzzy blob, entered his vision. “I imagine your sight is still muddled, but do not fret; it will recover.” So it did and at last he could see his companion clearly. Dettlaff had smiled at him then, fangs visible.  
  
~*~  
  
**The second year**  
  
Whenever Regis remembered fragments of the earlier months in his recovery a cold shudder would ripple through his body, making the hair on his arms stand up and his skin feel tight. That certainly had been an incredibly unpleasant time, but _no_ , he was getting better and shouldn’t dwell on that horrible period of his life. There was a future out there for him, Dettlaff spoke of it often enough.  
  
During the second year of his regeneration his health slowly kept on improving, but progress started coming in miniscule leaps and bounds now instead of steadily progressing forward. Rationally, Regis understood the physical body and knew this was normal, but nevertheless the older vampire would find his mood darkened. Dettlaff had to help him with _everything_. He wasn’t strong enough to move his limbs more than a couple of centimetres before the uncontrollable shaking started and his body gave out without his consent. Regis would have liked to rip everything to shreds. The bedding of his roost, the little wooden night table next to it, the small bookcase that had appeared one day. _Everything_!  
  
One occasion he feared _this was it_. He would never be his old self again, forever trapped below ground like a miserable worm and only capable of wriggling where he lay. He’d snarled at Dettlaff when the younger vampire was changing him into a fresh nightgown after his daily sponge bath, showing his fangs and hissing at his companion.  
  
Dettlaff, whose own nature was so close to raw emotion and pure primal instinct, had simply stilled his ministrations, not reacting to the weak threat. “Shall I leave you for a while? I’ll -”  
  
**_Fear._** “No!” Regis forced all his energy into reaching a hand out to his friend. It started trembling with exhaustion and it took an extreme effort not to drop it down to the bed. “Please… don’t, I-”  
  
Dettlaff’s hand quickly grasped Regis’, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Silly old vampire. No reason to fret, I asked for your sake.” A thumb softly stroked the back of his hand, creating small circles. “I hate it when you’re in a black mood. I don’t know how to help you, but you’ll not succeed in pushing me away. Lash out if you need to, I’ll still come back to your side when you need me or want me.”  
  
That pulled Regis out of his mood. His gut felt like it was being wrenched, but this time it had nothing to do with the physical state of his body. “Just… don’t leave?” Regis looked up at Dettlaff, remorseful, but when he saw the understanding in those blue eyes, relief made a wry smile appear on his face.  
  
In the weeks that followed, Regis became capable of staying awake for longer periods of time. He spent the time becoming master of his own body again. Exercising movement, speech… progressing from learning to sit up on his own and grunting out a few words to moving on to shuffling steps and speaking with his previous eloquence.  
  
When he became bored but was too tired, Dettlaff would sit down on the bed next to him, a book from the crypt’s little impromptu library in his hands, and start reading aloud.  
  
Regis knew it would take years before he had completely recovered, but he would bear the slow progress. In some manner he was already further along in his regeneration compared to his regeneration when he’d been killed by an angry mob, though this time he felt more wearied… used up.  
  
One positive thing about this whole mess was that he had gained a packmate, a blood-brother even, in Dettlaff. That was a heartening feeling.  
  
~*~  
  
**Somewhere at the end of the second year (part I)**  
  
Regis had been practicing standing upright and walking with Dettlaff’s support. Gradually they managed to move to the other end of the crypt and back again and Regis felt ready to try walking without Dettlaff’s support. He shuffled a bit uncertain in the beginning, but when his legs still held Regis regained his confidence and slowly started moving about the crypt. Dettlaff was hovering protectively by his side, not touching, but ready to catch him if necessary.  
  
Regis smiled, fangs showing, when he managed the short trip around the crypt without any aid. His legs only trembling slightly from the exertion. “I did it! Dettlaff!”  
  
“Indeed.” Dettlaff grasped his shoulder, a slight smile visible on the usually stern face. “You can build up your walking until you no longer tire from the effort. Next, when you can climb the stairs we’ll go outside together.”  
  
Regis sighed dejectedly. He knew the reasoning behind it, but he was sick and tired of being trapped underground for nearly two full years now. The walls felt like they were coming towards him and he wanted to escape and breathe in the fresh air again. “Please… might we go outside today? Just… for a little while?”  
  
“Regis…” Dettlaff growled, warningly.  
  
“To celebrate my imminent return of fluid mobility?” **_Timid hope_.**  
  
The younger vampire huffed and Regis knew he would get his wish before the other even said anything. “All right, but you’ll not attempt those stairs just yet. Come.”  
  
Regis moved one of his arms over Dettlaff’s shoulder while the other vampire bent down slightly and placed an arm under Regis’ knees, moving his other arm behind Regis’ back and effortlessly lifting him.   
  
Regis excitedly grasped Dettlaff’s shoulder as the younger vampire carried him up the stairs and outside of the crypt they’d called home for the last two years. The moment they passed the threshold he was flooded by all the scents and sounds and sights. Oh so many sensations clamoured for his attention, it was a bit overwhelming, but so extremely wonderful!  
  
The purplish-orange sky indicated it to be just before dawn and a chill breeze brought smells on it that Regis had nearly forgotten. He looked around him, not recognising the area. Last he remembered he’d been in Ebbing in Stygga castle, but their surroundings didn’t resemble any place he was familiar with.  
  
Dettlaff carried him a little beyond the crypt entrance before gently returning him to his feet.   
  
The older vampire composed himself and loosened the hold he still had on Dettlaff’s shoulder, though he stayed close. Regis couldn’t help but enjoy the warm comfort he derived from his friend’s proximity and was reluctant to give it up; a bit scared by his much wanted new experience and wanting _, needing,_ the comfort Dettlaff provided. “Where is it that we are currently residing? I am not familiar with our surroundings.”  
  
“We’re in the kingdom of Mettina. When you’re stronger I’d like for us to travel to my home in Nazair. It is certainly more comfortable than this place, though I’ve experienced worse hide-outs.” Dettlaff ‘s eyes lost their focus.  
  
Regis hummed. “I’m looking forward to travelling to your home, though I fear it shall be a while still until you and I may travel there together at a pace faster than a strolling tortoise. Now is that a stream I hear?”  
  
The younger vampire jerked his head to the left. “The river Sylte, we’re half a league north of it. When you have reached the pace of your tortoise we shall go there together, but seeing as you currently have both the energy level and the moving speed of a sloth it shall not be today.”  
  
Regis perked up. “A sloth? What kind of creature is that?” He had never heard of them before and that was a rare occurrence.  
  
“First, let us sit down.” Dettlaff then started telling them about the furry little animals, living high up in the trees and occasionally climbing down with great risk to their own lives. “When I was still young I used to think these sloths were a tiny breed of lesser vampire, a not unreasonable assumption as they have these impressive claws…”  
  
Regis liked seeing the spark in Dettlaff’s eyes, the worry and care leaving him while telling the adventures of ‘Fuzz the vampire pup’ that he’d tried to adopt, while it had in fact been the adventures of ‘Fuzz the sloth, destroyer of tree leaves in mom’s garden’.  
  
Listening to the story and being outside, seeing the sun come up behind the grassy knoll, did wonders to improve Regis’ mood. When Dettlaff finished recounting his story they just sat for a while, basking in the sun.  
  
Some hours later Regis found himself having trouble keeping his eyes open, jerking his head back up when it kept trying to sink down to his chest. Dettlaff huffed and rose to his feet. “Come brother, I think your body is telling you it’s had enough excitement for the day.”  
  
All he’d done that day was walk, though finally unaided, and sit outside, yet Regis felt the truth in Dettlaff’s statement. “I fear you are right. I would not object to some repose now.”  
  
Dettlaff nodded, holding out his arms in silent offer. “Let’s return inside then.”  
  
~*~  
  
Over the course of the following weeks Regis’ routine consisted of sleeping, eating, regaining his strength and now, once a day, going outside if the weather permitted it.  
  
He went from walking one round around the crypt to two and then three and soon he felt confident enough to, under careful supervision of Dettlaff, start scaling the stairs. An immense challenge that he _would_ conquer sooner rather than later.    
  
During his exercises Dettlaff tended to be quiet unless Regis started speaking to him first. Regis assumed it was because Dettlaff didn’t want to distract him if an exercise was too challenging still and he appreciated the thoughtfulness. Especially when he misjudged the next step and stumbled on the stairs; immediately feeling a grip on his arm steady him. A flood of emotions and sensations seeped through the bond they shared. Usually the bond was similar to background noise: familiar and easily ignored, but sometimes a strong impression would come through. Like now. **_Unease. Worry._**  
  
“Thank you, Dettlaff. I promise to be more attentive to my next steps.” Left foot up, right foot up, pause. Another step achieved.  
  
The younger vampire blinked and the sensation faded. “Perhaps you should rest, continue later.”  
  
Regis shook his head. “I am fine. Additionally, I believe I am now at the level of the ‘strolling tortoise’, which you agreed would grant me access to the river.”  
  
Dettlaff grunted. “You are too impatient. You are already walking two years after full disintegration and are pushing yourself with these exercises.”  
  
“If I don’t exercise the muscles I have just gained, the progress will become stagnant.” That was something that Regis feared. His body looked whole on the outside, but he was all skin and bones, had hardly any muscles and no fat whatsoever. He still felt weak and vulnerable most of the time and that was not a state he wished to remain in for a moment longer.  
  
“I’m not saying don’t exercise. As a doctor you would not push your patients towards their recovery with the pace you are currently setting yourself. We have time Regis, go a bit slower, that’s what I’m asking.”  
  
Regis shrugged. “I could remind you of the idiom of doctors being patients?”  
  
Dettlaff huffed. “No need, you illustrate the living proof.”  
  
~*~  
  
The next day when they were outside Regis walked up to Dettlaff, a bit nervous. “Dettlaff? Were you serious? About… not visiting the Sylte just yet?”  
  
Dettlaff raised an eyebrow. “If you want to practice your walking I would not mind us strolling at a tortoise pace today. We have no matters to attend to besides your recovery. There’s no need for haste. If you get too tired though, Regis, you are to let me know and I will carry you the remaining distance.”  
  
“Agreed.” Regis started walking with Dettlaff next to him.  
  
With the pace they were going it took them nearly an hour to reach the river, and that was including the part where Dettlaff took Regis into his arms to carry him the rest of the way when he became too tired after what must have been only half way the distance. Still, a personal record for his walking distance ever since his recovery. Regis was sure that if he’d been healthy and they’d both misted up they would have managed the trip in under ten minutes.  
  
Dettlaff set him down underneath a tree that was only a few metres from the water’s edge.  
  
Regis’ black eyes took in the sight, settling on Dettlaff in the end with a happy smile. “Magnificent.”  
  
~*~  
  
From that moment on, their daily routine varied and the vampires would sometimes go to the Sylte and at other times wander the grassy areas around the crypt.  
  
On the days that Siarra came by for a visit she started talking to Regis now that she finally caught him awake. Each visit she would bring him several new books for their extending library and Regis would forever love the alp for bringing him books and talking with him. In addition, she started handing him some small ‘get-well’ gifts that the pups had made. The katakan family in Dettlaff’s pack didn’t dare travel so far south with the pups so young still, but they’d apparently heard so much about their new pack mate already that they were thrilled, the young ones especially.  
  
Regis had been a bit flummoxed by the easy acceptance and wondered what could be a suitable gift for the small pups. When he’d asked Dettlaff though the younger vampire had looked at him and shook his head. “Just play with them when you meet them. For now, focus on your regeneration.”  
  
So Regis did just that. He started being able to walk further and further without exhausting himself to a collapse until the day came that he could walk all the way to the river, unaided. He hadn’t moved from his spot under the tree for several hours afterwards, but he’d disguised his weariness from Dettlaff by casually opening the book he’d brought with him and starting to read. The younger vampire had rolled his eyes before joining him on the ground, a comfortable silence between them.  
  
~*~  
  
Evenings were usually spent quietly in their crypt, reading by the candles or telling stories. Regis considered asking Siarra to bring them several factions of the gwent card game next time she visited so he and Dettlaff could play.  
  
In these quiet evenings Regis would sometimes stroll through the crypt and focus on the inscriptions carved into the stone sarcophagi. There was a grave here and there with very amusing inscriptions, leading to droll discussions with Dettlaff the one time, and more philosophical ones the next.  
  
He could hardly wait to travel to Nazair with Dettlaff and meet his pack. He was much better now, but he knew the other vampire wouldn’t consider taking him out on the road until he had made some more leaps in his recovery.  
  
“You know, I consider myself quite unmatched in my capability of brewing exquisite batches of mandrake hooch.” This evening Regis sat in a wooden rocking chair that had appeared after one of Siarra’s stops, a book focusing on the alchemical properties of various sorts of field plants open on his lap.  
  
Dettlaff was sitting on a stool next to him, whittling away at a piece of wood. “Is that so?”  
  
Regis perked up. “Why yes indeed and I’d be happy to prove it to you! Oh if only I had all the ingredients!”  
  
The younger vampire looked up towards him, silent.  
  
“I think it would be nice to add another experience to my post-regeneration phase.” Regis was not above wheedling. He felt trapped in his human skin but Dettlaff refused to let him try and change into his vampire form, telling him he first needed to be able to walk to the river _and back_ within an hour before he should even consider attempting the feat. Yes, a little mandrake hooch would do wonders to soothe his tight skin.  
  
Eyebrows raised. “Regis, you’re still _in_ your regeneration phase.”  
  
Regis rocked forward in his chair, eager. “Ah but did you know mandrake root is an ingredient that is often used in potions for its stamina regenerating properties? I could certainly do with more stamina.”  
  
“Exercise, rest, patience… those are the three ingredients that will recover your stamina. To recover your health you’ve got my blood and our food.” Dettlaff pointed his head towards the desk where a variety of provisions lay. Somehow Siarra had also managed to find them some piece of lembas cake and brought it with her. It was an odd cake that stayed fresh for weeks as long as it was kept wrapped up in mallorn leaves.  
  
The older vampire stood up, trying his best to look pathetic. “Pleeeeasse, Dettlaff?”  
  
Dettlaff huffed. “Silly old vampire. Fine, _I’ll_ search for it tomorrow, but _you_ are taking a rest day. No major activities.”  
  
Regis’ black eyes twinkled, happy with the outcome.  
  
The other vampire sighed. “Tell me what else you need for this ‘hooch’ and I’ll see whether I can retrieve it all.”  
  
~*~  
  
After a breakfast of lembas, and in case of Regis also some of Dettlaff’s blood, the other vampire misted up into a red fog and swirled up the stairs, going in search of the elusive mandrake root and the ‘hooch ingredients’.  
  
When he was alone, Regis picked up one of the new books and climbed the stairs to the outside. The sun was up already and the scent of the wind promised a good morning. _Very good._ He’d promised Dettlaff that he’d take a rest day and not do any major activities, but he may as well do his resting in his favourite spot by the river if that was the case. No major activity, just a light and slow stroll…  
  
Regis arrived at the Sylte by what he expected to be a little less than an hour later. Even slower than an average human, but his speed had improved compared to last time. He gladly settled himself against his usual tree and started reading.  
  
When he was half way through the book he was pulled from the story when he noticed a change in the sounds around him. It sounded like some sort of wagon was coming his way.  
  
It was bound to happen that he would encounter some travellers; after all, wherever there was water, there was an opportunity for refilling water skins and the possibility of catching dinner.  
  
He could leave now and walk back to the crypt, or stay where he was, continuing his book. It _would_ be nice to encounter some other living beings besides Dettlaff and Siarra and practice his social skills; a nice and polite conversation before the travellers went on their way again.  
  
Deciding, Regis waited until he could see the approaching travellers. It was indeed a wagon, pulled by a bay horse that had a white blaze and white socks. A woman and a man sat on the front bench, though Regis could see that two other men sat in the back of the wagon, the feet of one of them lazily resting up against a large metal cage standing prominently in the centre.  
  
Regis frowned. It could be that these humans were some sort of law-enforcing citizens, or perhaps bounty-hunters, but he couldn’t be sure. It was equally as possible that he was looking at a group of bandits approaching, though bandits didn’t usually have a woman with them dressed as elegantly as the one on the bench.  
  
A voice in the back of his mind, eerily sounding like Dettlaff, told him to go back to the crypt and avoid these creatures, _what was he even doing so far out!_ , but Regis realised that it would be too late. He was alone and too slow to avoid the approaching group if they had any ill intent. Better to wait quietly and greet them like a friendly stranger.  
  
When the wagon was close the man in the front pulled on the horse’s reins. “Hello there!” The man greeted. “We are travellers on the way to the north and still have a long way to go. Would the kind sir perhaps know of an inn or a merchant close by so that we could restock on our victuals?”  
  
Regis closed his book, slowly standing up. “Unfortunately I know of no village, but my friend told me earlier that there is a merchant in this area, travelling east on a donkey. If you follow the river you may catch up to him before you have deviated too far from your intended direction.”  
  
The two men in the back jumped down from the back, walking up to the river. They crouched down and Regis noticed that they were indeed filling the skins they carried with fresh water. _See? No reason to worry, just travellers._  
  
The man on the bench climbed down and walked around to the other side, holding out his hand to help the woman down from her perch. “My lady.”   
  
The woman took his hand and carefully climbed down, taking care not to tangle her dress, landing elegantly on the ground. The fabric she wore indicated she was most certainly well off; thick and smooth fabric hugging her figure in all the right places, definitely custom made. Her brown hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and at the base of her neck rested a large emerald pendant.  
  
Minding his manners, Regis gave a short polite bow to her. “Greetings, my lady.”  
  
The woman raised an eyebrow and clasped her hands in front of her. “Are you all by yourself, sir?”  
  
Regis stood up, looking behind him to the east, prevaricating. “By heavens no, I much prefer the presence of a companion during my travels; much more interesting conversations may be held that way. My friend will return shortly.”  
  
The woman nodded. “Good, pardon my saying so, sir, but you do not look quite healthy. Are you all right?”  
  
Regis grasped his book tightly, eyeing the two men returning from the water and approaching him from the other side. He tried to keep all the humans within his sight, but could only manage to keep three within his direct line. “Thank you for your concern. I am quite all right now; just recovered from a bout of the cold. Horrible state to be in, really.”  
  
“I agree! Colds and coughs get right underrated if you ask me!” The man standing next to the woman said while nodding enthusiastically.  
  
The woman rolled her eyes, muttering _men and colds_ under her breath. “If your companion will be back soon, we could wait here with you until he returns, exchange stories? We should be able to catch up easily with the merchant.”  
  
Regis warily eyed the cage on the wagon. The possibility of conversing with someone else than Dettlaff _had_ seemed appealing to him earlier, but now that these humans were in front of him he wished for them to _go away_ already. “I _am_ curious why you are travelling with that contraption on your wagon.”  
  
“That’s easy, we’re bounty hunters!” The second man eagerly replied, swiping his arms out wide and forcing the third man to step to the side, or get slapped in the face. “We tend to go from village to village, check the notices if there’s any work or reward out for some thugs and then do our job.”  
  
“This time however,” the third man said, eyeing the second man warily and moving a bit further back, “we had to kill some bandits and rescued this damsel in distress. Now we are escorting her back home to make sure she arrives safely.”  
  
Regis raised an eyebrow. “A very noble ambition.”  
  
“Hey we’re bounty hunters, not uncivilized beasts. A lady needs help, a lady gets help.” The first man said, making Regis jerk his head to the left to focus on him.  
  
“Even when the lady’s not a lady.” The woman jerked her head towards him and, before Regis could move out of the way the third man had come up behind Regis, holding a knife to his throat.  
  
Regis didn’t move.  
  
“Hand over your coin.” The man that held him pressed his knife slightly into the skin of his neck, not yet drawing any blood.  
  
The vampire stayed calm. “I do not carry any. My companion has all our possessions. The only thing of value I have is this book here. You are free to confirm this for yourselves, no need for violence.”  
  
The man holding him twisted him around in one aggressive motion and Regis gasped when he was hit in the chest. No… not hit. He looked down and saw the hilt of a knife protruding from his chest, the man still gripping it tightly. The man jerked the blade out in one swift move before pushing Regis away.  
  
Regis wavered a bit, but he didn’t fall down as he _should have remembered_ to do. The knife wound only pained him slightly and he looked down, fingers reaching up to feel the blood seeping from the wound. _Huh…_ if he’d been healthy this would have healed already.  
  
Shouting drew his attention. “How are you still standing? Die already!”  
  
Regis saw the men come at him and he automatically took a step back. Feeling threatened, his hands started to transform into sharp claws and his teeth morphed into elongated sharp fangs. **_Pain._** He wasn’t ready to shift into his other form, _Dettlaff was right_. Regis became violently dizzy and collapsed to his knees, hands on the ground in front of him, arms shaking.  
  
“Beast! Vampire!” The woman shouted and a red light rushed towards him.  
  
Regis’ felt something harshly knocking his arms out from under him. He lost his balance and fell forward, bashing his head against a partially hidden rock. The three men stormed at him, kicking him in his chest and back, his legs even. Regis tried to protect himself as much as possible, but realised he was stuck like an insect on a pin.  
  
“Get the silver and dimeritium shackles, and the vial! Finally a beast try it on!” The voice of the woman shouted.  
  
A green light hit him next and Regis completely stilled, aware of movement going on around him, but not feeling a need to get away anymore. Someone came close to him, grabbed his arms and forcefully jerked them behind his back. Cold metal was forced around each wrist and shackles were locked too tight around his skin, slicing the thin wrists.  
  
A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders. “Do you think he really was waiting on a companion?”  
  
Another pair of hands joined the first and started twisting him onto his back. “Most like he was.” The second male started searching through his clothes. “Bugger, he really _doesn’t_ have anything of value on his person.” The hands returned to his shoulders, pressing down.  
  
Another pair of hands grabbed his head and forced his mouth open.  
  
“Gentlemen… if he was speaking true, then what do you think his companion may be? Human, or a beast like him?” The woman came into his sight and upended the contents of a black and silver vial into his mouth. The hands on his head forced his mouth closed and pinched his nose shut.  
  
“We must get away from this place and fast. This beast is slow, but it doesn’t look well. If we encounter a healthy vampire instead of a human we’ll be ill matched. We’d need a witcher most like to save our asses.”  
  
A hand started rubbing his throat and Regis couldn’t help it; he swallowed the liquid. Almost immediately he felt a **_pain_** like he’d never felt before and started moaning, his body still held immobile by both the human hands and whatever force had hit him.  
  
“Lady Ariana, open a portal, we must haste.”  
  
_No, not a portal! They weren’t safe! **Panic.**_  
  
“Ölf, my sense of direction leaves something to be desired when it comes down to portals. We could end anywhere between here and Temeria.”  
  
“Aim for Mayena, you’re familiar with that place. From there on we shall go on to Maribor.”  
  
“Very well.” A soft muttering in Aen Seidhe, then an orange flash.  
  
_Too much._ Regis could see an orange swirling disc materialising just seconds before his vision started clouding over with a black film and his body started burning with a fiery coldness. Then, he wasn’t aware of anything anymore for a long time.  
  
~*~  
  
When Regis finally became aware again he found himself on the inside of a metal cage. Vibrations passing through the surface he lay on told him he was being moved. So he was on the wagon. If he’d been more like himself the entrapment wouldn’t have presented any obstacle for him, he’d either tear open the cage or, as Geralt so fondly used to call it Regis thought sadly, would ‘puff up’ into a wisp of smoke and leave through the holes. Yet he’d only re-learnt how to walk a short time ago and had been more wobbly than a recently born lamb and as his automatic response earlier had proven, his body was not ready to shift into his more natural state. Distractedly, Regis wondered what would happen if he _did_ try to ‘puff up’. Would Dettlaff be able to find him and make him whole again? How long would it take this time?  
  
Regis’ body strained all of a sudden, sounds. A man and woman talking.  
  
“To _Mayena_ I said. How did you manage to get us right between the north of the mountains and Attre?” A quiet male voice grumbled.  
  
A woman huffed. “I _told_ you my portal direction left something to be desired. At least be glad we ended up in the right direction. And-“  
  
Regis stopped listening, taking inventory of his state. His arms were trapped underneath himself, numb, and his shoulders were pulled back uncomfortably. He tried moving his arms to the front, but when that didn’t succeed he remembered that his wrists were shackled behind his back. He tried wriggling his fingers, but he was so numb and he couldn’t see behind him to determine whether he had succeeded or not. It wouldn’t matter anyways.  
  
“He’s awake.” A voice close to Regis said, interrupting the pair in the front.  
  
Regis could feel the woman, the _mage_ , reach for his mind with cold tendrils. When the tendrils seemed to find what they’d been looking for a vice clamped around Regis’ body, squeezing his flesh and bones together until his energy and consciousness bled out in tandem.  
  
“Halt! Open the cage.” He distantly heard the female voice command, black spots hovering in his vision. The movement beneath him stopped and Regis heard a squeaking sound, and from the corner of his eyes he noticed a figure entering his prison. There was a low muttering and suddenly a sharp, stretching feeling encompassed his body; freezing his limbs while the vice kept on its energy draining clamp.  
  
The female mage appeared within his muddled view and an invisible hand forced his head backwards; squeezing his jaw and pulling it down. Regis saw the glint of a glass vial containing something black and silver and couldn’t prevent the mage pouring the vial’s contents into his mouth, forcing him to swallow the liquid afterwards. It didn’t take too long for Regis to comprehend that he’d just been dosed with some variation of black blood and that this was what he’d been forced to swallow earlier as well.    
  
A flesh hand patronisingly patted his cheek once he’d swallowed. “Good boy.” A squeaking sound, the clang of a metal door closing. “We may continue, he won’t be of any bother for a while.”  
  
**_Pain._** Regis’ entire body hurt and he felt cold and sizzling and there were tiny sharp needles stabbing him _everywhere_. The black spots in front of his vision coalesced into one big film. **_Panic._** He dimly felt a familiar presence in his mind, one that radiated **_worry_** , before the presence was snuffed out by his own excruciating pain and Regis’ entire world was only pain and blackness.  
  
~*~  
  
Everything started to blur together. Each time Regis managed to struggle back up from the pain and darkness he experienced the same events, though he felt weaker and weaker every single time he gained awareness.  
  
The mage somehow always noticed when he became aware and she would order the procession to stop each single time. An invisible vice would then clamp around his body and drain whatever energy he had remaining and the sharp stretching feeling would freeze him before the mage would force a vial of black and silver liquid down his throat. Afterwards his world was darkness and pain…  
  
~*~  
  
Regis struggled back to consciousness one time when it was the middle of the night. He wasn’t being moved. He stayed still, listening to his surroundings. His body and mind hurt and it was freezing cold, but at least he could think. A presence in his mind seemed to perk up and radiated **_worry_** , no doubt asking him where he was. Regis mentally grasped the bond he shared with Dettlaff, glad to feel it again and he tried to reach for the warm comfort he associated with the younger vampire. **_Pain._** The vampire slowly gathered his thoughts to himself, trying to work out how he had ended up here.  
  
“Nothing to say?” A female voice asked. “Come on, speak, I wish to assess your state.”  
  
Regis frowned, rolling his head to the side and trying to figure out where the voice came from. A figure appeared in his line of sight and he noticed a green light only a moment before it hit him. His body felt heavy and Dettlaff’s presence disappeared from his mind, another, colder presence pressing down on him.  
  
“It’s been several days now and you still live. Tell me, vampire, how long you can go without blood? Are you in danger of expiring or can you hold out for several more days?” The mage asked curiously, bending down a bit so her face was level to his. “And _what_ species are you? I’ve heard katakans can take on human shape once they reach an old age, or perhaps you are an alp or a bruxae?” The cold pressed down further, demanding.  
  
Regis tried to respond, anything to make the cold pressure release him, but his tongue felt swollen and he couldn’t seem to make his mouth work. He tried to shift from his uncomfortable position, his numb arms pinioned behind his back, but it hurt too much to fight the cold presence holding him down. He doubted he would have been able to shift positions even with the pressure gone.  
  
A feeling like there was a huge fluttering butterfly in his chest rolled over him _. **Trapped, hurt, panic, uncertain… fear**_. He’d never feared humans before, not even these ones would be able to actually kill him, but the power they held over him, this woman in particular, and his inability to do anything but take it frightened him. He was a vampire! He should be able to deal with these humans! Regis couldn’t fight, couldn’t flee… and now even speech was beyond him. Parlay with his captors was impossible. Regis felt a wetness slide down his cheek and closed his eyes in hopeless resignation.  
  
“A pity.” The mage tutted. “Hold on for a few more days though. We’ll deliver you to prince Jurkast so you can become part of his collection of wild beasts and in turn _we_ will receive a good price for you.” The mage straightened up. “In the worst case the prince will pay us well for unique alchemy ingredients. His people can take the time to dissect you and figure out what you are exactly.”  
  
Then, like so many times before, the vice clamped Regis’ body, the cage door opened and he was forced to ingest a vial of black blood.  
  
Beyond his control the world around him disappeared. **_Terror_.**  
  
 ~*~  
  
**Somewhere at the end of the second year (part II)**  
  
Dettlaff was just picking some celandine petals when he felt the first drops of rain. He looked up and saw the grey clouds fast approaching. He would be caught in a heavy rainfall if he stayed where he was. A light drizzle had started already as precursor.  
  
He considered returning to Regis even though he hadn’t yet found the mandrake root his friend had begged for, but on the other hand he _had_ picked up what he considered to be an impressive collection of celandine petals, crow eye roots and verbena that could be brewed into healing teas and should _also_ improve Regis’ stamina. The older vampire would be disappointed he would have to do without his hooch for a while longer, but he would get over it. _Another day, another chance._  
  
All of a sudden there were sharp sensations coming through their bond. **_Pain._** _**Panic**._ _Something was wrong_. These sensations were too strong to be anything other than serious trouble. Dettlaff looked around, realising he’d travelled farther than he’d intended and had left his friend vulnerable to attack. The vampire misted up into a red fog and hurried back to their crypt as fast as he could, realising it could already be too late…  
  
When he arrived at the crypt _so much later_ there was no sign of Regis. A quick look both inside and outside told him nothing was out of place; his friend had most likely gone to the river to await his return there. Still in his fog shape, Dettlaff hurried to the little spot that they often frequented.  
  
Within a few minutes the vampire arrived at their usual spot. It had started raining in earnest now. Dettlaff couldn’t see Regis, but he immediately knew that his friend _had_ been here. One of his books lay near the tree, getting soaked; Regis respected books too much to leave them to such a fate. What was even more worrisome though were the scuff marks all over the area showing human footprints, hoof prints and thick lines, a cart. The rain drops were pelting away any markings he could find and were taking the smells still lingering in the air with it.  
  
Dettlaff could still smell the lingering scent of humans. And there was another smell, something familiar. It hit Dettlaff suddenly: _blood_ … _vampire blood_. He’d smelled enough of it during his friend's recovery in the first year to have become intimately acquainted with it. Dettlaff’s eyes traced to a nearly hidden rock glistening with something dark red, to a gleaming spot in the grass a bit further away. He crouched next to the puddle and touched the dark liquid with the tips of his fingers, confirming his suspicion. Dettlaff growled, feeling himself shift to his other form but pulling back to remain in his human camouflage.  
  
Regis had not left of his own free will and he was hurt. There was no other blood smell, so he hadn’t injured any of the ones who had taken him. Anger rose up in Dettlaff, anger at the situation and himself, at Regis. His friend had left the safety of their crypt and had gone out in the open, defenceless as a newborn lamb still but as stubborn as a mule.  
  
He shouldn’t have trusted Regis to stay inside, no, that was wrong; he hadn’t forbidden Regis from going outside. He shouldn’t have trusted himself to leave Regis alone for a few hours, he should have taken him with him or not left at all. Stupid, _stupid_!  
  
Dettlaff shook his head. Useless. The priority now was finding Regis.  
  
“Regis?” he tried calling through the bond. Of course it was silent, the link only ever allowed for a sense of being and emotions passing over it. The bond felt dampened, subdued. **_Panic_** , **_pain_** , those were the only things Detlaff could feel coming through. Which direction? _Think! Focus!_  
  
From what he could still see on the ground, the humans had come from the west and then just… disappeared. There was a faint smell like lightening in the air and it confused Dettlaff. There were no impact signs on the ground to indicate lightening had struck; there were just marking on the ground in one place, then none. The lightening smell must have been some sort of sorcery. Regis could be anywhere by now. Who had taken him? _Think!_ What should he do? How could he find Regis if he could have literally been moved anywhere by now?  
  
Dettlaff reached within him and let his mind fly out to call for the aid of ravens. His kind often used them as messengers and for little errands and they would serve him now as well. It took much too long for Dettlaff’s liking for the black birds to respond, but after a while several dozen of them had settled in the tree branches above him, awaiting their orders.  
  
Communicating with a bird was different than communicating with any type of vampire, but Dettlaff mentally described the situation to the birds and showed them a memory of Regis so the birds would recognise the vampire.  
  
“Find him,” Detlaff ground out, watching the birds take off in various directions before taking off himself as a red mist; searching around for any clue of where his friend had gone. _North_ , his feeling was telling him. _Somewhere north…_  
  
Dettlaff reached out through their bond again, trying to get a feel for what the other vampire was experiencing. Their bond felt muted, dull and he could hardly pick up any of Regis’ emotions anymore. When he did manage to feel something it came with a sharp and sudden burst and Dettlaff had to suppress sending his **_worry_** back, instead focusing on **_calm_** and **_warm_** before he realised the link had faded again.  
  
It became a cycle. Most of the time their bond felt faded and dull, but it seemed like around every sixth hour he would be able to get a slight impression of how Regis was doing. It was good to know that Regis was still alive and their bond hadn’t dissolved, but Dettlaff wished he wouldn’t only feel pain, confusion, cold and fear.  
  
“Hold on, Regis. I’ll find you…”  
  
~*~  
  
A raven found him in the middle of the night, five days later, near Sudouth Valley, and brought ill tidings. It had seen an unkindness of humans and while it had encountered other unkindnesses travelling with carts of food or sometimes even other humans trapped in cages, this was the first time the raven had seen humans travelling with a caged _higher vampire_. This vampire, though, had been in an even worse state than Dettlaff had described. The vampire had looked _off_ and hadn’t responded to the raven’s caws, or anything else for that matter.  
  
The raven was interrupted when Dettlaff stumbled forward unexpectedly. After such a long period of dulled and infrequent sensations the vampire was overwhelmed by the sensation coming through their bond. **_Terror._**  
  
Dettlaff felt a pinching in his chest and tried to send back soothing thoughts, but their bond was blocked again.  
  
He looked at the raven with panicked eyes. “Lead the way.” And he’d puffed up into a red mist, following the raven west of the Amell Mountains and up to the north.    
  
~*~  
  
Two days later the raven had delivered him to the location where it had seen the human unkindness. Dettlaff returned to his human disguise, taking the time to look around and investigate the area. He was in better luck this time; the ground was a bit muddy and he found traces of wheel tracks and horse shoes in the ground.  
  
The raven cocked its head and pointed Dettlaff in the direction the humans had taken off. _Further north._ If the humans wanted to cross the Yaruga they would most likely go onwards to Dillingen. This route was too far out of the way if the humans intended to go towards Attre or Cintra capital.  _North,_ the raven had indicated, not west, not east.  
  
Dettlaff nodded to the raven, then he misted up and flew north.  
  
~*~  
  
It was just before dawn when Dettlaff found what he was looking for. He turned back to his human shape and silently observed the situation.  
  
There were four humans: three male, one female, all spread around a fire. A horse was grazing nearby, hobbled for the night; a disgusting practice in Dettlaff’s opinion. His eyes searched further, finding what he had come for. A cage positioned on a wooden wagon; a figure lying inside. _Regis_.  
  
Dettlaff misted up where he was and flew to the humans, manifesting into his vampire form, claws extended. Two of the males died before they knew what had even happened, their necks slashed to the vertebrae. The third male managed to unsheathe a sword, but before he could use it Dettlaff had already ripped his heart out and dropped it to the floor.  
  
The woman was different. When the first two males died she’d stood up and muttered some words in Aen Seidhe. A yellow light appeared around her body, forming a bubble. “Stand back, I command you!” She held up her right hand towards Dettlaff and cast another spell, this time causing a red light to be expulsed.  
  
The vampire easily dodged the light. _A mage._  
  
“Back I tell you!” The bubble had disappeared from around the mage’s body and she quickly cast the yellow spell again.  
  
Dettlaff misted up and moved behind the mage’s back, but just when he materialised and readied to slash the woman a bright white light exploded in front of him, leaving only empty air. A small tingling hit him; he’d been wounded by the spell. Though wounded was an overstatement; in less than a second the only sign that he’d been hit was a slightly singed tunic and some dried blood.  
  
“You’re not like other one.” The mage sneered, jerking her head towards the cage. “That one’s pathetic.” When Dettlaff automatically looked to check on Regis she cast another spell, this time a green colour. Dettlaff experienced a dull feeling drape over him like a light veil, but it slipped off as soon as it touched him. “That same spell turned him into a quivering mess. Are you different breeds or is he considered a runt by your kind?”  
  
Dettlaff bared his long fangs, a growl rumbling from his chest. “You have taken one who is very dear to me. You hurt him.” He held his arms out, showing off his claws. “There is no force on this world that can save you.”  
  
The woman laughed, disappearing in a bright white explosion. A green spell hit Dettlaff again, the dull feeling sliding off as before. “You must be different breeds. He is weak and easily controlled, not like you. You are magnificent!”  
  
Dettlaff’s eyes turned to slits. “What have you done to him? Speak!”  
  
The mage looked towards the cage, smiling crookedly. “No, I don’t think I shall tell you. It’s much more fun this way.” This time she expulsed a blue spell towards the cage, hitting it and causing the metal structure to wobble before steadying again. “By the way, how long can your kind survive without food, or should I say drink? It’s always so confusing when considering a vampire’s eating/drinking habits…” The yellow bubble disappeared again and the mage quickly recast her spell.  
  
Enraged, Dettlaff started misting up and materialising in different locations, mentally counting the time until the yellow bubble would disappear again. The woman seemed to move in a pattern, exploding in a white light from one place to the next and back to another place, repeat. If he could just time it _right_ …  
  
The deadly game of cat and mouse continued for several minutes, Dettlaff occasionally allowing himself to be hit by a spell to throw of the mage from his true intent; make her believe he had become an insensate beast. Then _finally_ Dettlaff materialised in the right place at the right time. The bubble was just disappearing and Dettlaff thrust his claw through the woman’s chest. The vampire pulled his clawed hand back, squeezed the heart to a pulp and then, just to be sure, decapitated the falling body in one swift move.   
  
~*~  
  
Dettlaff returned to his human form and quickly hurried to Regis. His friend lay on his back, eyes closed and his arms seemed to be trapped uncomfortably beneath him. Regis was pale, but unnatural dark veins stood out on his face and neck. To what extent did they run on Regis’ body?  
  
“Regis?” Dettlaff’s fingers hovered over the metal of the cage, searching for any magic residue. “I’m getting you out of there.” The younger vampire carefully touched the cage and, finding he could touch the metal without any ill effect, violently tore the cage door off its hinges. He climbed up on the back of the wagon and hesitantly crouched next to his friend, getting his first good look.  
  
The progress Regis had made during his entire last year of recovery had come completely undone. His friend had already been stringy and thin from his regeneration stage, but he was so much thinner than last time, clearly emaciated. There was a patch of blood on the front of his tunic, the cut in the fabric telling the story of being stabbed. Dettlaff lifted the tunic high enough to inspect the skin underneath. His breath stuttered. The wound was still bleeding sluggishly, but he blood oozing from the site was darker in colour than was natural. The dark tendrils, clearly visible on his face, covered his entire body. Further examination indicated there were no other cuts on Regis’ body, the only other trace of blood being on his temple. There were however some dark marks over his ribs, and a quick examination revealed broken ribs. It had been more than a week since he’d been taken! Taking into account Regis’ rate of regeneration and the limits of his body these wounds should have healed within a few days!  
  
With the back of his fingers Dettlaff gently touched Regis’ cheek. “Regis? Can you hear me? Wake up!”  
  
No response.  
  
Dettlaff lifted each of Regis’ eyelids, revealing bloodshot eyes rolled up backwards, the black of Regis’ irises only slightly visible. What was this devilry?  
  
“Regis… I’m going to move you, get your arms free. It’s all right.” Careful of his broken ribs, Dettlaff rolled Regis to his good side to examine the shackles clasped tightly around the thin wrists. Regis’ hands had a purple tinge to them, no doubt long gone numb, and black veins were also present on this flesh. Dettlaff touched a shackle to search for a keyhole or other weakness and hissed. _Silver_. He was one of the few higher vampires with the oddity of not being able to handle silver, though Regis had no trouble with the metal whatsoever. Luckily.  
  
Though Dettlaff wished nothing more than to just rip off the shackles, he would more likely than not rip off Regis’ wrists as well in the violence it would require. _No, there must be a more simple way._  
  
Dettlaff made sure Regis couldn’t roll back by shifting the older vampire’s legs into an anchoring position, upper leg folded, foot into his lower leg’s knee. Then he stepped off the wagon and started searching the corpses lying on the floor. He found a key ring on the belt of one of the human males and took it with him. There were only two keys on it and only one that seemed to fit the holes he’d seen in the shackles.  
  
With a distracted thought Dettlaff also ripped the sleeve of the human’s tunic and took it with him back to Regis. He used the cloth of the tunic to cover his hand so he could reach for one of the shackled wrists and try the lock and key combination. Soon, the shackle fell free from one wrist and Dettlaff hurried to free the other one.  
  
He then slowly placed one arm behind Regis’ shoulders and lifted the injured vampire’s torso up into his arms. He carefully guided Regis’ arms back to his front again, softly kneading the flesh and trying to restore the blood flow to his arms. Dettlaff clenched his jaw at seeing the dark bruising and rings of black blood surrounding the fragile wrists and he rubbed his cheek over the top of Regis’ head, sniffing in the scent; familiar, but _off_ somehow. “You’re safe now, Regis.”  
  
Dettlaff looked around the wagon. Some sacks lay in the back, likely with some food in it, but what he really needed were bandages and alcohol.  
  
Regis let out a small, pained gasp and Dettlaff quickly, but gently, lay him back down. The vampire searched through the sacks until he finally found one with some flowery smelling clothes in it; the woman’s. They would have to serve as bandages, there was nothing else. Dettlaff quickly tore one piece of clothing into several strips before closing the sack and attaching it to his belt. The other pieces would serve later as fresh bandages. It would have to do for now. He also took what looked and smelled to be two water skins with him and put it into the sack.  
  
He went back to Regis and carefully lifted him back up, tying one impromptu bandage tightly around the too thin chest and wrapping each wrist with some swathes of cloth as well. Then he took him back up into his arms and got them both off the wagon.  
  
The younger vampire felt a strong urge to _move_ and _flee._ Any cave or underground hole was preferable to where they were. He vowed to himself not to leave Regis’ side again until the older vampire was fully capable again.  
  
A whinnying sounded behind him, making Dettlaff turn around. _The horse._    
  
The bay horse, awkwardly moving with its hobbled feet, flicked its head and tried to approach the pair of vampires.  
  
“Your masters are dead, horse, you’re on your own.” Dettlaff grunted, ready to start walking.  
  
A neighing, the sound of clumsy hobbled hooves struggling on the ground.  
  
Dettlaff rolled his eyes. Idiot beast, if it had any self preservation it should have tried to move _away_ from the pair of vampires, not _towards_ them. He walked towards it, _her_ he noticed, slowly, estimating whether the horse would freak out the moment he neared as animals usually tended to do.  
  
The mare, seeing him coming, stilled her struggling and lowered her head, nodding slightly up and down. Apparently when the animals didn’t run away in fright it seemed horses had similar behaviours to katakans, begging for attention in the same manner.  
  
Dettlaff approached, his precious burden cradled in his arms. “If you stay still I shall remove the hobble and we’ll go on our own separate ways.”  
  
The mare stilled completely as if understanding and not daring to make any other move.  
  
The vampire took hold of the rope hobbling the horse’s legs and crouched down; he just managed to keep a hold on Regis, taking care not to jostle him, and started untwisting the bits of rope until finally the mare was free.  
  
Dettlaff stood up again, shifting Regis a bit. He looked the bay mare in the eyes and noticed an intelligence there. Perhaps he even imagined gratitude in those dark brown orbs.  
  
The horse looked at him and lowered her head again, taking a slight step forward towards the pair until her snout was in reaching distance. Carefully she butted her head into Dettlaff’s arm, not too rough to disturb the figure in his arms, but gently; holding her head still against him for a moment before slowly moving her snout to the figure in his arms and nuzzling Regis’ neck. A soft nicker.  
  
Dettlaff slowly stepped back, trying not to spook the horse. “You’re free, now go.” He looked down at Regis’ gaunt face and decided that getting to a safe place was their first priority.  
  
The vampire intended to walk towards the mountains; it would only be a couple of hours walking east at most and from there on they would be able to travel back south along the Marnadal Stairs. There was bound to be a cave somewhere along the foothills of the Amell mountains, anything resembling a safe place where he and Regis could hole up for a while. _First east, then south._  
  
He hadn’t taken more than a few steps when the mare blocked his path. Dettlaff huffed. “Move!” He tried to go around the mare, but she followed his move and kept blocking him.  
  
A nickering. A hoof repeatedly stamping the ground. The blazed head turned towards him, moving up and down, snout nuzzling Regis before the mare threw her head backwards towards her own back.  
  
Dettlaff frowned, understanding what the horse seemed to suggest. “I do not know how to travel on one of you. I’m usually faster and have had no need; not that your kind would take one of my kind.”  
  
The horse seemed to sense his resolve giving in though, for she nuzzled his cheek gently before pointing her head towards her back again.  
  
“All right, but you asked for this. Be patient with us and don’t jostle him too much.” Dettlaff wondered about his next step, but he was surprised when the horse bent through her front knees, lowering herself so he could easily place Regis on her back. He climbed up right behind him so he could keep a stabilising hold on Regis when the horse returned to her standing position.  
  
Dettlaff adjusted his hold so he loosely held Regis upright against his chest, resting the older vampire’s head on his shoulder. “To the mountains.”  
  
The mare started walking in the direction he’d ordered, quickly changing her gait into a slow pace, resulting only in a slight rocking motion that Dettlaff deemed acceptable for travel. It was easy for the untrained vampire to stay on her bare back with this pace and keep a hold of Regis at the same time.  
  
~*~  
  
When the mountains came within reach, Dettlaff could feel the figure in his arms start to move around, feebly struggling against the hold around him. “Hush Regis, you must save your strength. Stop your struggling, there is no need for it.”  
  
The thin chest heaved up against his arm and Regis’ head started rolling left and right. **_Panic._** **_Pain._** The injured vampire shot up and his panic grew, giving his all to move his hands to Dettlaff’s arm and _pull_.  
  
Not expecting the forceful move, Dettlaff’s grasp on Regis slipped but he was luckily quick enough to catch Regis before he fell from the horse’s back. The mare, sensing something was wrong, carefully stopped moving, waiting. Dettlaff also waited a moment, supporting Regis until the older vampire seemed stable again.  
  
Regis’ eyes were open and a frown marred his face.  
  
Something was wrong. “Regis?”  
  
Confused black eyes sought his, mouth opening and closing silently. Regis slowly gazed at his surroundings, frowning sharply before closing his eyes and slumping down.  
  
“Regis!” Dettlaff stroked the other’s temple; softly patting the sunken cheeks when there was no response.  
  
He gathered his unconscious companion securely into his arms, making sure Regis’ head was comfortably positioned on his shoulder. If only they could both turn into their misty shapes, it would make travelling so much faster!  
  
“Move horse, we’re nearly there. Let’s find us all some shelter.” Dettlaff wished they would find a good place to hole up in and soon.  
  
~*~  
  
It was just before the sun had reached its zenith that they reached the foot of the mountains and Dettlaff’s blue gaze searched the area, looking for any kind of cave or cover. A griffin flew far above, approaching high and from the east before turning its flight southwards. The dark grey clouds approaching them however foreboded the approach of rain. That may be good for the horse? After all, Dettlaff had no idea how often the beasts needed water or food. He was fairly sure the horse would manage to find something to eat, but water was another matter; he only had the two skins…  
  
Dettlaff found what he was looking for and he guided the horse in the right direction. There was an unnatural hole in the rock wall and the vampire tilted his head, listening. No sounds.  
  
“All right horse, this will do.” Dettlaff wondered how he would get both himself and Regis safely down to the ground, when a soft nicker warned him only a moment before the horse lay down. Dettlaff carefully moved Regis around, lifting one of the older vampire’s legs over the mare’s back and lifting him into his arms before removing themselves from the horse’s back. The moment he had dismounted the mare struggled back up to her feet.  
  
Dettlaff approached the hole, seeing the sturdy handy work inside that indicated dwarves had at one time visited this place. Likely to mine for some ore or whatnot. The cave was actually bigger than he expected and he could make out darker areas indicating passages leading further into the mountain. The first chamber was big enough for both vampires and granted space to the horse as well.  
  
When he went inside his eyes were immediately drawn to the top of the cave, to the light blue crystals protruding from decorated standards along the wall. He frowned, wondering about the history of this cave. The clicking of hooves on a stone floor told him the horse had followed him inside. _No self preservation whatsoever._  
  
It was time to make sure Regis recovered. He needed rest and he needed to eat so he could regenerate.  
  
Dettlaff settled down a bit further from the cave entrance, out of the wind but still able to keep track of the entrance and the passages. He shifted Regis so he was cradled sideways on his lap, one arm looping around his torso to keep him up, mindful of the broken ribs.  
  
“Regis? Wake up, brother, you need to eat.” If Regis didn’t wake he would revert back to other methods; he’d become quite familiar with getting an unconscious Regis to take in the much needed sustenance. “Come on silly old vampire, you’ve slept long enough.”  
  
Slowly, the head resting against his shoulder lifted and black eyes blinked up at him tiredly. The black veins on his face made his friend look like an eerie spectre.    
  
Dettlaff tried to smile.“ Ah there you are. You must be hungry, famished by the look of you. Come…”  
  
Regis blinked up at him again, then he frowned before his eyebrows raised. **_Hope._** “-laff?” **_Hesitance._** “No…” he breathed weakly, feebly twitching against the arm circling him, hands coming up to pull away the physical vice around his chest. “Hurts… no, please… no!” **_Fear. Panic._**  
  
Detlaff sensed the impressions coming through their bond and felt his blood start to boil. He wished he could crush the humans a second time and wondered how they had managed to hurt Regis so badly, both physically as well as mentally.  
  
Clenching his jaw, Dettlaff refused to feel guilty for what he did next. He forced Regis’ mind to calm down, tenderly; gentling him softly. “You’re safe, Regis.”  
  
Pale trembling hands, shot through with black, gradually loosened their hold on Dettlaff’s arm and fell back to the older vampire’s lap, telling Dettlaff his own mind was taking hold. The tiny broken whimper that escaped Regis pulled at his heart though and he had to force down an anxious flutter in his own chest.  
  
Taking the knife on his belt, Dettlaff cut into his left wrist and held up his bleeding appendage. “Drink.”  
  
Dazed mind, eyes dulled, Regis bid as commanded and latched onto Dettlaff’s wrist, drinking the fluid he’d need to start healing. When it became apparent Regis couldn’t drink anymore, Dettlaff slowly released his mind’s hold and pulled Regis closer to his chest. The injury on his wrist was healing over already. Dettlaff felt for their bond and sent positive feelings over it. **_Safe. Calm._**    
  
No more than a few minutes had passed when all of a sudden Regis’ breath hitched and he started squirming. The thin body heaved and all the blood he’d just ingested came back up. When the vampire opened his black eyes this time Dettlaff noticed the feverish watery gleam obscure the usually extraordinarily perceptive gaze. There was no recognition in those eyes anymore.  
  
Outside a flash of light was followed by a clap of thunder and the skies unleashed a downpour of rain onto the earth. The horse neighed, spooked, and Regis tried to push himself away from Dettlaff’s hold. The younger vampire didn’t allow that to happen though, arms gentle but strong around Regis’ form; trying to prevent the injured body from being hurt further.  
  
“No!” Regis gasped, his eyes wild.  
  
Dettlaff rested a cheek on Regis’ crown. **_Calm. Safe. Love._** “Regis, it’s me, Dettlaff. You’re safe now, you’re safe…” He waited. He would not enforce his mind again today, his friend would never learn that he was truly safe otherwise.  
  
He kept sending safe and warm feelings through their bond, patiently waiting and rewarded when after what seemed like hours, but might have been actually much less, Regis’ body relaxed a bit and black eyes finally indicated recognition.  
  
“-laff?” Regis’ voice sounded gravelly.  
  
The younger vampire smiled. “Welcome back, brother.”  
  
Regis’ nostrils flared; smelling the air. “The humans!” He tried to look around Dettlaff’s hulking figure and then twisted around to investigate the other side. **_Fear._**  
  
Blue eyes narrowed. “Dead. They cannot harm you anymore.” Dettlaff moved Regis’ head to the crook of his neck again and cradled the back of his head in his hand. This position had always soothed the other vampire during his earlier regeneration and right now he could definitely use some comfort.  
  
A cold nose nuzzled his neck, inhaling. “You found me…” **_Relief. Safe._**  
  
~*~  
  
Dettlaff felt the moment when Regis slipped into unconsciousness. He pondered what he should try next. His friend obviously hadn’t handled drinking his blood well and whatever colour he had possessed had drained further from his face.  
  
Dettlaff opened the sack still at his hip and took out one of the water skins, tearing off a piece of cloth from one of the pieces inside it still. He wetted the cloth and used it to clean Regis’ face with gentle strokes. Once his face was free of any blood Dettlaff took the water skin and raised it to his companion’s lips, slowly forcing some of the liquid into his mouth and stroking the pale neck to get Regis to swallow some tiny mouthfuls. Not too much, just enough to soothe his throat.  
  
He checked the bandage covering Regis’ chest. So far it hadn’t bled through, that was good. When Regis woke he would check the wound and change the bandage if it was still necessary. Now that he was free from the humans and whatever they had been doing to him his health should restore quickly. Tomorrow after some rest Regis would be improved and they could turn south onto the Marnadal Stairs and enter Nazair. They may as well go home now, no use returning to Mettina.  
  
~*~  
  
The morning came but it did not bring with it an improved Regis. Dettlaff changed the bandages on his chest and saw that the wound was still bleeding sluggishly. He checked Regis’ ribs and changed the bandages on his wrists, no change there either. The black veins still marked his body and the vampire was hard to wake.  
  
He opened his wrist for Regis again and this time his friend drank of his own will, though he only managed to drink a little before exhaustedly slumping down. All efforts on both sides turned out to be for naught however when moments later Regis vomited up the blood. The distressing sounds he made were painful to listen to.  
  
His friend was growing weaker with an alarming rate. Something was seriously wrong. Dettlaff was too much of a realist to believe Regis would magically heal when he couldn’t keep down anything but a few sips of water. His situation was worse than during his initial recovery and that was saying a lot. It must be the black veins; they couldn’t stay here in the mountains and wait it out, medicine was needed.  
  
If they turned north and slightly west they would reach Dillingen. It was north of where he intended to travel, but Attre and Cintra capital were too far west and there weren’t any villages along the Marnadal stairs leading up to Nazair.   
  
Dettlaff debated for only a short moment, stroking his fingers through Regis’ hair. He sighed, making his decision.  
  
Dillingen was the closest village. With a little luck he would encounter a doctor who was able to point out what was wrong with his friend and treat it. He wasn’t fond of humans, save for one who had left him, but he would stay close to Regis at all times and kill any humans that even tried to threaten them. Yes, onward to Dillingen it was. Rest at an inn, get some broth for Regis, find a doctor…  
  
Dettlaff took off his cloak and wrapped it around his shivering friend. Then he picked up Regis and moved outside. The rain had stopped sometime ago, but there were small puddles on the ground still and the air had turned much colder.  
  
The mare was outside already, eagerly nibbling some wet grass, when the two vampires came out of the cave. Her ears flicked back towards them and she stopped her grazing, walking up to greet them with a whinny. Upon seeing Regis her eyes took on a concerned gleam and she stepped closer until she was within reach, rubbing her soft nose down the vampire’s cheek. Then the mare stepped back, her ears standing upright and she blinked, then stomped her hoof.  
  
“Change of plans, horse.” Dettlaff grunted, waiting for the mare to lower herself so he could place Regis on her back, swiftly climbing up after.  
  
~*~  
  
It was night time when they arrived at Dillingen and the gate was shut, but a light flickered dimly through a crack in the gatekeeper’s panel. As was their ritual by now, the mare lowered herself to the ground to make it easy for them to get off, quickly standing up again afterwards.  
  
“Gatekeeper, let me in! I seek to rest at the inn!” Dettlaff kicked the bottom of the gate, calling for attention.  
  
The little gatekeeper’s panel was pulled open and a suspicious stare, illuminated from the side by a blazing torch, met his gaze before focusing on the figure in his arms. Near-sighted eyes squinted at Regis before the figure looked up at him, one bushy eyebrow raised. “What’s the deal with him? He ill? If so you won’t be allowed to enter, we don’t want anyone bringing in disease here.”  
  
Dettlaff gritted his teeth. This was not the time for kicking in doors and tearing the head off of this bug of a human. _Patience_. “My friend is injured. We need a place to rest whilst he recovers.”  
  
The torch moved closer to the human’s face while soft footsteps indicated the presence of another person. “Why does he got black in his face? Looks ill to me.”  
  
“He’s ill from his injury, he’s not contagious. You needn’t worry about this village. Grant us entry so we may continue to the inn!”  
  
A new face appeared in the panel, another gatekeeper likely. “Please show the injury,” the second man replied. “If he’s indeed injured we’ll let you through, but if he’s ill I suggest you go find some druids.”  
  
The first man nodded. “Or better yet, go to Brokilon up north. You can try your luck there with the dryads.”  
  
Dettlaff clenched his jaw. He wouldn’t risk enthralling one of the men while giving the other the opportunity to raise an alarm. He did _not_ want to raise any unnecessary attention. His options were either to give in and show them Regis’ injury, or to figure out if there were any druids around. Perhaps he would be able to find some near the death trap that was Brokilon forest, but perhaps the dryads would aid them after all? They weren’t fond of humans, but they did allow Sco’iatel to rest and recover in their forest.  
  
The vampire shook his head. No, they were so close to shelter. He wouldn’t go anywhere unless he had no other choice. “If you want to see his injury, come and check for yourself. He’s in pain and I won’t jostle him unnecessarily, and I’m not putting him down on the floor when it’s soaking wet and cold. He’s been through too much already.”  
  
“Sod off! Go find the druids! We won’t fall for that trick!” The first man swept the panel shut and Dettlaff could hear a bolt sliding.  
  
The voice of the second man sounded muffled through the door. “Stefan, they don’t _feel_ like bandits. Perhaps the one is ill, but I think the gentleman is telling the truth. Let me open the door and do as he requested.”  
  
Dettlaff’s ears perked up and he took a step back. The mare whuffled at his back.  
  
“Stupid boy, you can’t _feel_ out bandits, you haven’t seen as much as I have at this post!” Squelching steps moving away.  
  
“Stefan, please. So far I’ve always been pretty good at figuring people out. Let me go out there and check his story.” A thud.  
  
The squelching stopped. A sigh. “Fine, but it be on _your_ head if you’re wrong,” the voice muttered.  
  
This time the heavy gate opened just a crack and a man, a boy actually still, squeezed through before the gate shut tightly behind him. There was a sword attached to his belt, but the boy hadn’t unsheathed the steel nor did he seem itchy to reach towards it. The human looked behind him and rolled his eyes. “I apologise, but we can’t be too careful with all that we’ve seen already, Stefan especially. All right, let me see your friend?”  
  
Dettlaff tightened his hold on Regis unconsciously, resulting in a pained gasp from the injured vampire, before he quickly forced himself to relax a bit and offer the boy access to Regis. _One threatening move..._ “He has been stabbed and he’s got broken ribs. Push the cloak aside and lift his tunic if you must, but be careful!”  
  
The boy nodded, “Yes sir, I’ll be careful.” He came closer and examined Regis’ face, frowning, but he did not comment. As promised he was cautious with his movements, gently moving the different layers of fabric out of the way. A hiss escaped through his lips upon seeing the injuries and Regis’ tunic was moved up further revealing the black tendrils running all over his skin. Once the boy was satisfied he covered Regis back up.  
  
“Stefan, the gentleman is speaking true, let them in,” he called back.  
  
The gate was pulled wide open. “Fine. Sorry about that. Better safe than sorry is all,” he mumbled.  
  
Dettlaff clenched his jaw. “Indeed. Where’s the nearest inn?” He passed the gate, hiding Regis from view the best he could; the mare followed quietly.  
  
The man, Stefan, gestured vaguely into the darkness. “Follow this road, a couple of minutes walking and you’ll see it on your left side. Can’t miss it. The Golden Duck it’s called.” The man retreated to a little inside area to wait for the next lost travellers from a drier position.  
  
Dettlaff started to set off at a sedate pace when he felt fingers on his shoulder for a fluttering moment. It was the boy. “Sir? I believe you when you say your friend is not contagious, but what caused those black marks? I can send for the village medic, sir, or is your friend also cursed? In that case I’d suggest finding a mage, or a witchman.”  
  
The young vampire sighed. None of those options sounded appealing to him.  
  
The boy scratched the back of his head. “Come to think of it, there’s a witchman that’s been hanging around the area, taking on contracts. He’s an old fella, grey hair, cat eyes, two swords.”  
  
“No thanks,” Dettlaff forced himself to say. “Rest at the inn will do.” He needed to _think_.  
  
“Begging your pardon, sir, but _that_ doesn’t look like something only rest will solve.”  
  
Dettlaff grunted and walked away. He _knew._ The vampire feared a normal medic wouldn’t be able to help should he stoop to requesting one’s aid, but Brokilon was still a far way off. He likely _would_ have to send for a mage, or a _witcher_. _Which was the lesser evil?_  
  
Within a few minutes the pair of vampires reached the inn, and like the man had said it was hard to miss. There was a big, golden painted wooden duck hoarding what seemed to be a pull of beer to its chest in front of the building, and there were a bunch of idiot drunks stumbling in front of it, croaking bawdy songs strikingly out of tune. A little off to the side was a stall where some other horses stood gathered together, mulching on some hay. The bay mare eagerly walked up to them, pushing some of the tethered horses to the side so she could have her fill of water and food.  
  
Dettlaff tried to cover as much of Regis’ face as he could with the hood of his cloak before entering the inn. He winced at the loud music attacking his senses, taking a moment to adjust. The place was dimly lit and smelled of roast meat and beer. Musicians were frolicking on the stage and patrons were merrily drinking and playing games of gwent or dice.  
  
He went to the bar where a burly man was cleaning some glasses with a cloth, eyeing him up silently.  
  
“Are you the innkeep?” Seeing the man nod, Dettlaff continued, “We need a room, a bathtub with hot water, some food and drink. We have a bay mare outside that needs tending as well.”  
  
“What’s the matter with him?” The innkeep pointed his head towards Regis, finishing the glass he was on and moving to the next one.  
  
“He’s injured,” Dettlaff shifted on his feet, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. “He needs rest.”  
  
The innkeep put his glass down, throwing the cloth over his shoulder. “That we can provide for, yes indeed sir. The name’s Butterman. What can I get you for food and drink, master…?”  
  
“Dettlaff van der Eretein, this is my brother Emiel.” Dettlaff gave his real name, not seeing the need to hide it from this human. “We’d like some warm broth with bread on the side, water and red wine. Also, bandages, cotton and medical alcohol. Bring it all to the room please. ”  
  
“Aye, will do. That’ll be two and a half crowns, if you please.”  
  
Dettlaff frowned and looked down to his coin pouch. To reach it he’d have to let go of Regis. “I have the coin. If you show me to the room I can lay my brother down first and give you the sum.”  
  
Luckily the innkeep only nodded, seemingly understanding. “Ah, of course,” he went around the bar and tapped a young girl on her shoulder, “Theresa, be a dear and start boiling water. Have a bath and hot water set up in room eight. I’ll show these gentlemen to their room and handle the rest. Send Alvin out to tend to the gentleman’s horse.”  
  
The young girl, red hair and freckles, nodded and went to work.  
  
Dettlaff followed the innkeep, up the stairs to near the end of the hallway, where the burly man opened the door and moved inside.  
  
The young vampire examined the room from just outside the door. Butterman was busy lighting the hearth in the far corner. There was one bed in the centre of the room, but it was big enough to harbour them both. A window straight across from the door allowed moonlight to seep into the room, a thick curtain ready to block out the light.  
  
Dettlaff moved to the bed and gently lowered Regis to the side furthest from the door and closer to the fire, rubbing one thumb soothingly across a temple but making sure the cloak didn’t reveal the worrying black marks to the human.  
  
He turned back to the innkeep, opening his coin pouch. “Here, the promised crowns. Thank you master Butterman.”  
  
“Thank you kindly, sir. I’ll return shortly with the food and drink. Expect Theresa to be up in the room next to prepare your bath.” The innkeep quietly shut the door behind him.  
  
~*~  
  
Dettlaff crouched down next to Regis and rested one hand on his friend’s forehead, feeling the cold skin. His fingers wandered off and started a light stroking; trying to comfort both Regis and himself.  
  
After some time the innkeep returned with the food and drink and left it on the bed stand. A bustle of servant girls had followed him up and were moving a wooden bath tub into the room, coming back to fill it with pails of alternatively boiling and cold water.  
  
Finally in what seemed like forever the humans left the room. Dettlaff moved to the door and slid the deadbolt in place, locking the room from the inside.  
  
He felt the water with his fingers; it was a good temperature and would remain nicely warm for a while longer. _First things first._ Both Regis and he needed to get rid of their wet clothes and Regis could definitely do with a thorough cleaning. Dettlaff undressed Regis, manoeuvring his arms and legs to get the clothes off in one piece instead of just tearing them off, he then cut the makeshift bandages free from around his friend’s chest and wrists. Once that was done he quickly stripped down to his own skin and unfolded the towels, spreading them out on the bed.  
  
He picked up Regis and lowered him into the warm water. If he’d been awake Regis would have loved the opportunity to actually bathe in a hot tub instead of using quick washes, but this time he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. Wouldn’t be aware of it even if he remained in this state.  
  
Dettlaff picked up the soap that came with the bath and smelled it. It was a bit too fragrant for his taste, but it would do to clean his companion. This too was an old routine by now, cleaning an unconscious body from tip to toe. Once he was done he lifted Regis from the now dark water and placed him on the towels on the bed, drying him off as best as he could.  
  
Dettlaff paid some extra attention to Regis’ wounds, seeing now for the first time in full the damage the already fragile body had taken. Dark tendrils wove their way all over the vampire’s body and the wound in his chest was still oozing blackish blood. Perhaps it was the source of the black veins? On Regis’ right side Dettlaff could see dark splotches of colour and, moving his fingertips lightly over the areas, the young vampire confirmed that the ribs still hadn’t healed.  
  
He picked up the cotton and the medical alcohol and cleaned the chest cut before binding it with the bandages, repeating the procedure for Regis’ wrists. Once that was done, Dettlaff wrapped some of the blankets around his friend. Then he moved himself up on the bed, between the wall and Regis and carefully positioned his friend against his chest; holding him loosely with an arm. “Regis? Wake up, I can’t believe you’ve slept through all that. We’re in an inn now. I’ve got some broth for you to try.”  
  
The vampire in his arms didn’t show any signs of having heard him or of gaining consciousness. Well, this would seem like last year, when he’d fed his more-often-than-not unconscious companion. Luckily Dettlaff could be very patient. He took the bowl of broth and first tasted a bit himself. Nothing remarkable about it. Then he slowly spooned bits of broth into Regis’ mouth. Taking painstaking measures to spoon small portions, gently rub Regis’ throat to get him to swallow, wait a moment before moving on to the next portion. Dettlaff didn’t touch the bread though. If Regis had woken up he may have considered dunking the bread in the soup for a more filling meal, but as it stood broth it was.  
  
It took more than twenty minutes for a quarter of the bowl to be eaten. Regis had become clammy with cold sweat and started compulsively swallowing, at which time Dettlaff feared giving Regis any more until he was sure the meal wouldn’t make another visit coming back up. Luck was not on their side. Seeing it coming, Dettlaff carefully rolled Regis onto his side while he retched.  
  
He sighed, becoming desperate. “Brother… whatever did they do to you?” He used a cloth to clean Regis’ face before laying the older vampire down to finally rest, pulling the remaining bedcovers over him as well.  
  
Dettlaff moved around the room, cleaned up the mess on the floor, washed his hands and then hung up their clothes near the hearth to dry. They would be dry by morning if the fire held. But he wasn’t all that sure whether Regis’ tunic shouldn’t just be destroyed, soaked with blood as it was. He’d need a replacement for it then though, which meant speaking to more humans again and worse, leaving Regis. _Not an option._ _Not now._  
  
Not caring about his own state of undress, Dettlaff settled on the bed next to the unconscious body, sitting up against the headboard. Not to sleep, but to keep watch. The bond they shared felt fragile, despite the two vampires being next to each other. The boy at the gate had been right, he knew…  
  
Come morning he would send for a mage, or perhaps the witcher? He could always ask for their input first and then mind control them to help his friend, or kill them if they became hostile. Or perhaps he should just take Regis and travel to Brokilon?  
  
~*~  
  
Dettlaff had been monitoring Regis all through the night, making sure his friend still breathed. It was completely unnecessary for their kind, but after so long pretending to be human and acting like it breathing had become sort of an unconscious reflex for all of them.  
  
When daylight finally came nothing had changed. Regis hadn’t moved from where he lay, the black tendrils running across his body were still running amok and their bond, while luckily still tangible, stayed muted.  
  
A knock on the door startled Dettlaff. He hadn’t heard any footsteps, or had he not been paying sufficient attention? “Yes?”  
  
“I’d like to speak with you. It’d be easier if there wasn’t a door in the way,” an unfamiliar voice stated. “Consider me a friend.”  
  
The young vampire went on high alert, it seemed like he’d made the wrong choice in coming here after all. He hadn’t realised he’d basically trapped himself and Regis until just now. It was either hurriedly grab Regis and flee (a jump out the window wasn’t too bad right?) or confront the man, hope he spoke truthfully and otherwise kill him and then flee.  
  
“Just a moment,” Dettlaff walked to the hearth and felt his clothes. Dry enough. He quickly put on his leggings and tunic, figuring that would do for now. He slid the deadbolt free and opened the door, surprised by the weird looking man standing in front of the door. “Who are you? Why do you disturb me?” Dettlaff growled. Grey hair, a big nose, bushy eyebrows, mismatched armour and weird cat-like eyes. Two swords… this was a witcher.  
  
The man looked at him, calm and collected. “Short answer: Mikolf sent me. The name’s Vesemir, I’m a witcher.”  
  
Dettlaff frowned, not recognising either name, but his muscles tensed, on guard, prepared to slice the witcher to ribbons should he make a false move.  
  
The witcher didn’t move, seeming to read Dettlaff’s intentions. “Longer answer: Mikolf, that is, the boy of the nightwatch, came running up to me when I was leaving the village this morning. Asked whether my services had been requested by a tall and brooding dark haired man. Said the man’s friend had been injured something awful and it looked like a curse, but could I please keep quiet about it to not frighten the villagers? When he described you I remembered seeing you entering the inn last night, carrying your friend. Now I’ve learned the hard way not to butt in if I’m not wanted so I just observed. But then this morning the boy came running up. I overhead Butterman yesterday when he told Theresa your room number and here I am.”  
  
Dettlaff clenched his jaw. “The boy paid you to check up on two men he only met briefly in the middle of the night? What does he expect to gain from this? For you at least it’s clear. I-”  
  
Vesemir interrupted him. “Now who’s saying anything about pay? Yes I’m a witcher, but if you’d have seen Mikolf you would be hard pressed to ask for coin for something so simple as human decency. The boy was convinced you needed help that a regular medic would not be able to give you.”  
  
“Then you are doing it out of the… _kindness_ of your own heart?” Dettlaff felt like slamming the door in the man’s face.  
  
The witcher shrugged. “I’m offering you whatever help I may be able to give, take it or leave it. Perhaps I’m able to help your friend. I’ve seen a lot of injuries, illnesses and curses over the years.”  
  
Dettlaff focused on the soft breathing behind him. No change during the night, no improvement whatsoever in all the time since he had recovered Regis. They were both in their human forms and many people were unaware higher vampires existed, but the possibility that this witcher would find out was certainly there.  
  
Dettlaff clenched his fist, deciding. “You may enter.”  
  
Vesemir nodded and slowly stepped inside. “I’ll need to examine him. Will you wake him up so I’ll not startle him?”  
  
The young vampire closed the door behind him, keeping his eyes on the witcher the entire time. Mentally preparing for an attack. He shook his head. “He hasn’t responded to me for nearly a day now. He was stabbed and I think the blade was poisoned.”  
  
The man silently walked to Regis’ side of the bed. Cat eyes narrowed upon seeing Regis’ face. Vesemir knelt on one knee and gently removed the pile of blankets laying on top of the still figure. His eyes were drawn to a dark spot seeping through the bandages. “You have more bandages ready? I’ll need to cut these off.”  
  
Dettlaff shook his head. “Go ahead. There are more.”  
  
Vesemir nodded and within a minute he’d removed the bandages covering Regis’ torso. Then the witcher did something very strange. He bent down over Regis’ chest and lightly sniffed the stab wound, seemingly following some black tendrils up to his neck. The witcher checked Regis’ pulse there, checked the other’s eyes, lips and the inside of his mouth… fingers hovering lightly over the dark bruises indicating the location of his broken ribs. “All right, let’s bind him back up, I’ve seen all I need to know.”  
  
“Can you help him? Do you know what ails him?” A feeling like hope dared to flicker to life in Dettlaff’s chest.  
  
“You hold him up while I bandage his chest.” Vesemir nodded towards the pile of clean bandages, waiting for Dettlaff to hand them to him, eyes flickering quickly to his hand then up to his face, waiting for him to lift his friend.  
  
While wrapping the bindings around the emaciated torso, Vesemir started talking. “I recognise these symptoms and I have to say I’m surprised he’s still alive. I know you higher vampires are hard to kill, but this just proves your amazing strength.”  
  
Dettlaff felt an aggression coming to life in his chest. “How?”  
  
“Don’t insult the witchering profession. The teeth, the nails, no scent but what’s coming from his injury. I _can_ recognise what’s in front of me. Though katakan would have been my second guess.” Vesemir calmly kept on wrapping Regis’ chest, unfazed by what he obviously knew to be an agitated vampire that could tear him to shreds. He must be really confident Dettlaff wouldn’t kill him on the spot. If he hadn’t been holding Regis that may have differed. “These black veins… the thing that caused it would have killed a human on the spot. Witchers on the other hand will often swallow the same stuff before confronting any type of vampire. Then if we get bit, our enemy gets poisoned. A lose-win situation. Your friend shows all the symptoms of such poisoning.”  
  
“Regis hasn’t bitten any human!” Dettlaff nearly shouted. “He hasn’t drunk human blood for decennia! You-”  
  
“-laff?” a weak stirring of the figure still in his arms. “You… ‘ll-righ? … shout?” **_Worry_** _._  
  
Dettlaff adjusted his grip on Regis and gently lowered the older vampire to lie flat on the bed. He kept his eyes on the witcher, who hadn’t moved from his place after tying off the bandages. “It’s all right, Regis. Just a slight disagreement with a thick-skulled witcher-“  
  
“Ger’lt?” **_Hope_** came across their bond.  
  
“Shh… no it’s not Geralt.” **_Calm_** he sent back. **_Safe_** _, **calm** …_  
  
**_Agitation_** _, **worry**. _ “Vilge-for… kill… too?” Limbs twitching, fingers searching…  
  
Vesemir’s face turned sombre. “Geralt’s alive and well. At Stygga castle you helped them obtain the extra edge they needed. You saved Yennefer and Geralt killed the bastard. He told me Vilgefortz had killed _you_ , molten you into a puddle or something. How are you alive?”  
  
Dettlaff actually growled at the witcher. “Leave him be, he has no energy to spare satisfying your curiosity.”  
  
Vesemir blinked his cat-like eyes. “All right. I believe you when you say Regis didn’t bite anyone. He’s a friend of Geralt, my boy. Tell me what’s happened, tell me all you know. Regis _should_ be a molten puddle in Stygga castle, but here he is. True, somewhat worse for wear, but infinitely better than Geralt described. I need to determine his state and history before all this,” Vesemir waved his hand towards the bed, “so I know which route to take. Giving him the wrong potion now would be a costly mistake…”  
  
~*~  
  
Dettlaff recounted the story in detail, telling Vesemir about how he found Regis at Stygga castle, how he cared for him and brought him back into a physical shape. The bond they shared and the assault the humans and their mage had unleashed upon his friend. Black eyes fought to stay open for just that bit longer, but Regis lost consciousness long before the story was finished.  
  
Vesemir slowly nodded. “What happened to them?”  
  
Dettlaff clenched his hands. “I killed them.” No subterfuge, only the hard truth.  
  
“Good riddance.” Vesemir mumbled.  
  
Dettlaff looked up, surprised.  
  
“What? Don’t look so surprised. You protect your family. If someone hurts them you _hunt them down_ and make them pay.” An angry gleam appeared in Vesemir’s eyes before sadness overtook it.  
  
The young vampire blinked, muscles unclenching in relief. Standing down from the edge of ‘fight-or-flight’.  
  
“He’s getting worse by the hour,” Dettlaff fretted, finally allowing the extent of his worry to show. “He can’t keep down any food. During his regeneration I’d feed him my blood to speed up the healing process, but he can’t keep it down now. Yesterday we tried a simple broth, but even that came back up. It’s been more than a week and I can only assume he hasn’t had anything other than this poison you mention. He wakes every so often, though less and less and when he _is_ awake he’s not _there_.”  
  
Vesemir nodded. “Your friend seems to be poisoned with superior black blood… from the state Regis is in I suspect he’s been poisoned over a longer period of time. Now I’m not sure how other witcher potions work for you, but what I’d normally take is superior white honey to clear the toxicity and cancel all the poison’s effects.”  
  
“Witcher potions?”  
  
“Like I said, I’m not sure how other potions would work for you, there are so many that restore our vitality and stamina, but if we want to keep on the safe side after what you just told me I think white honey is his best bet.”  
  
“Do you have any?”  
  
“No, but I can brew up a batch in an hour with some dwarven spirit and honeysuckle,” Vesemir looked at Regis, “I’ll brew up several batches.” The man set up a little brewing station in one corner, taking off his swords and armour to get himself comfortable. It was going to be a busy day.  
  
~*~  
  
While Vesemir brewed the potion, Dettlaff paced the room, back and forth, back and forth. The witcher explained to him that it would be crucial for Regis to keep down the white honey. With the state he was in they would need to do anything they could to make that happen because Regis’ declining condition wouldn’t allow for many more hardships.  
  
Dettlaff turned towards the witcher, growling. “I won’t force his mind again unless it is _absolutely_ necessary.”  
  
Vesemir finished his brewing and started bottling up several batches. “I’m telling you that it _is_ absolutely necessary. If you will allow it I can try one of the witcher signs to calm him down, but I’m not sure it will work on a higher vampire, even one as weakened as Regis. If it doesn’t work you _will_ have to force his mind. Consider it life and death.”  
  
Dettlaff clenched his jaw, but nodded, walking up to the bed next. “Regis? Regis! We need to talk, wake up.” Dettlaff stroked his thumb down Regis’ temple. “Come on you silly old vampire.”  
  
Vesemir came up behind him with one of the bottles of white honey. “Dettlaff, let’s not wait. The sooner he gets the antidote the better.”  
  
“He needs to know what’s going to happen. At least get some sort of warning.”  
  
The witcher sighed, pity in his gaze. “He’s losing himself, you’ve said it yourself. He’s not aware of what’s going on, waking him up will likely only upset him further. We need to hurry.”  
  
If looks could kill the witcher would have died on the spot. Dettlaff reached over Regis’ torso and grasped the hand lying loosely on top of the covers, squeezing it briefly. “Regis, you’re going to be all right. We’ve got a potion that will make you better, but it’s important that you keep it down. Vesemir and I will guide your mind and body to make sure your body will accept the antidote. Do not fight it, there is no reason to be afraid.”  
  
Dettlaff felt the fingers in his hand twitch lightly and he could have sworn that the older vampire nuzzled into the hand still cupping his face. That was good enough for him. “All right, let’s do it.”  
  
~*~  
  
Dettlaff rested Regis half upright against his chest and got him to drink the clear potion. This was the easy part, getting him to _keep_ it down however was going to be harder. Just after Regis had swallowed the first dose of white honey he started breathing heavily.  
  
Dettlaff recognised the signs. “Your sign, cast it, now!”  
  
A green light appeared, reminding Dettlaff of one of the mage’s spells. He could feel a burst of **_fear_** and **_panic_** coming on strong through their bond, petering out when the axii took hold. Growing stronger when Regis fought the sign.  
  
Dettlaff had no choice but to help and give the required push, gentling the other’s thoughts to accept Vesemir’s suggestion. “It was similar to this; I couldn’t feel him through our bond, it was muted, dampened… _very_ similar to this.”  
  
Vesemir grimaced. “Mind control. This sign however isn’t nearly as strong as what a mage can cast. This one now doesn’t hurt, it’s more like tricking his mind to make his body relax while giving the white honey a chance to be taken up by his system. Hopefully this won’t have to be repeated next dose.”  
  
Dettlaff and Vesemir kept Regis’ mind and body calm for nearly half an hour, when suddenly the witcher nodded. “We can let go now.”  
  
The younger vampire started rubbing light circles on Regis’ back while both he and the witcher released Regis’ mind back to him. Waiting. One minute… two… Dettlaff didn’t dare to move Regis for fear of the potion coming back up still after all this time.  
  
“It seems to have worked.” Vesemir went to the other side of the room and grabbed a little pouch from his pack. “I’m going downstairs to Butterman; get us all some food and drink. You going to be all right here?”  
  
Dettlaff nodded. “Could you check up on our horse? She should be in the stall. I don’t know what’s usual for an inn related to horse care; did she get food and water?”  
  
Vesemir’s bushy eyebrows rose. “You left out that part. _You_ riding a horse? Huh… what’s her name?”  
  
The vampire looked puzzled. “I don’t know.”  
  
“Well, what have you been calling her?”  
  
“Just… ‘horse’.”  
  
“You’re as bad as Geralt. At least me and my other boys are capable of giving our steeds names, but _he_ just calls every horse he has ‘Roach’.”  
  
Dettlaff considered this. “She _can_ be annoying like a bug; kept harassing me until I accepted her as a ride.”  
  
Vesemir snorted a laugh. “Geralt’s are named after some kind of fish, but the bug would do just as well. Sure I’ll check up on her. What she look like?”  
  
“Bay coloured, white blaze and white socks.”  
  
“All right. If there are more of her colouring in the stall I’ll just see which mare responds to ‘Horse’.”  
  
The vampire could just see the witcher’s smile before he slipped out the door.  
  
~*~  
  
When Vesemir came back he brought a tray with him topped with carafes of water and wine, platters of cheese and bread, and even some steaming dishes that smelled really good to the young vampire. “No bother getting Theresa up here when I was going up anyways. How is he?” The man nodded his head at Regis.  
  
Dettlaff eyed the tray, suddenly famished. He hadn’t eaten anything since his search for Regis had started and once he’d found him he’d simply… forgotten. The wine and bread of the day before still stood on the floor by the bed where Vesemir moved them earlier, untouched save for what he’d tried to get Regis to eat. “He’s started shivering, but so far he’s managed to keep the white honey inside.”  
  
“Good, very good. Expect some more shivering, clammy skin, hot flushing. That’s the potion clearing the toxicity.” Vesemir put the tray down on the night table. “The dark veins are already turning lighter, do you see?”  
  
Dettlaff looked down at his friend, opting to lift one hand instead of moving Regis’ head from the position on his chest. The black tendrils still stood out all over his body, but perhaps they did seem lighter now. It could easily have been his imagination.  
  
“I found your horse, she’s fine. Got food and water and the stable boy was spoiling her with apples and carrots when I came to check on her. Remarkable animal, didn’t react spooked at all when I came close.”  
  
“Why would a horse spook from _you_? You’re just a human, they’re used to you.”  
  
“Ah well it has something to do with us witcher mutations. You would call me a human, but most men and folk call me a freak or a monster. The reason animals aren’t fond of us is because we smell _wrong_ to them. Witcher’s rides are carefully selected and in my younger days they were still bred specially by witchers, but now that we are a dying breed we either train horses from a very young age up so they are used to us, or take a warhorse that’s been trained for battle.”  
  
Dettlaff frowned. “Your younger days, so all this happened in the span of what; half a century?”  
  
Vesemir laughed out loud. “Witchers age differently. By now I am a bit older than three hundred years and still going strong.”  
  
The vampire blinked and Dettlaff couldn’t stop an eyebrow from lifting in disbelief.  
  
Vesemir waved it off, harrumphing. “Come over here and join me for some food and drink.”  
  
Blue eyes shone with concern. “What about Regis?”  
  
“Give the white honey some more time to work. In a couple of hours let’s see how the next dose goes before we try giving him anything else.”  
  
Dettlaff carefully disentangled himself from Regis and lowered the other vampire to the bed. Then he tucked the many layers of blankets securely around the still naked body and joined the human.  
  
The witcher picked up one of the steaming bowls and dipped a piece of bread into what seemed to be some kind of stew, nodding to another bowl just like it. “Go ahead, it’s beef stew. I hope that’s all right for you?”  
  
The vampire hesitantly picked up the second bowl and inhaled the delicious scent. Then he dug into the meal, polishing off his share in minutes. He hungrily looked at what he considered to be Vesemir’s portion of the cheese and bread and, still hungry, stood up to retrieve the bread on the other tray. He dipped the slightly stale bread along the edges of his bowl to soak up some bits of gravy and polished that off too.  
  
Vesemir cocked his head, not even half way through with his own stew. “If you’re hungry still I can order another portion for you? Or two?”  
  
Dettlaff longingly looked at his empty bowl. He should go downstairs himself to get his own food, but he didn’t want to leave Regis alone. Not even with the witcher here to make sure nothing bad happened. “No, it’s fine.”  
  
Vesemir rolled his eyes and put his unfinished bowl on the desk, standing up. “Be right back.” He disappeared out the door and returned a moment later with another tray. This one carried two steaming bowls of stew, some bread and a round cake smelling like honey and spices. He put it on the table next to the other tray, closest to Dettlaff. He nodded at the vampire. “Dig in.”  
  
After that, Dettlaff felt full and sated.  
  
~*~  
  
A couple of hours later Dettlaff and Vesemir prepared to give Regis a second dose of white honey. The black veins still stood out sharply on the pale figure, but Dettlaff had hope now seeing that the veins had become a bit lighter and Regis at least hadn’t retched the liquid back up.  
  
He settled himself on the bed and pulled Regis’ body onto his lap. “Regis? We’re going to give you another dose of the white honey. If your body is still rebelling we’ll help you keep it down. Like before, yes? That didn’t hurt, remember?” **_Safe. Calm._**  
  
Regis seemed to rouse a bit, but he didn’t quite make it to an awake state. He accepted the vial when it was pressed to his lips and swallowed of his own accord, but the heavy breathing following afterward and the compulsive swallowing told of the struggle the older vampire went through. “Do it Vesemir.”  
  
The witcher cast another axii on Regis. This time Dettlaff didn’t experience any fear or panic through their bond and the other vampire seemed to accept the suggestion Vesemir imposed on his mind, needing no extra reinforcement from Dettlaff.  
  
The younger vampire stroked a thumb up and down along Regis’ temple. “Very good Regis. Go to sleep if you can. Let the potion work.”  
  
Vesemir let go of the axii some time later when he deemed it safe to do so. “His body was struggling less this time, that’s a good sign. Now it’s waiting for the white honey to do its work.” The witcher moved over to the fireplace and placed some fresh logs in the grate. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to meditate for some hours. If you need me, just call.” The man then knelt next to the fireplace, lit it with a sign and rested his hands on his thighs, closing his eyes.  
  
Dettlaff stayed awake through the night, checking up on Regis every so often to see if there was any change. He remained pale and clammy, but the black veins seemed to become lighter of colour. The white honey seemed to be doing _something_ at least.  
  
It was some hours before dawn still when Dettlaff felt the head on his shoulder weakly lift up. A pair of black eyes raised to meet his gaze and the younger vampire smiled. “Hello there, old friend,” he spoke softly.  
  
Regis blinked tiredly and tried to wet his lips. A hand struggled free from the blankets and lifted to land on Dettlaff’s chest, clutching the fabric of his tunic. “Hun-gry… -laff?” The weak voice was barely above a whisper.  
  
Dettlaff nodded at his friend. “Of course Regis, let me wake Vesemir. Just in case.” He turned his head towards the witcher, shielding Regis’ ear with his hand. “Vesemir! Wake up!”  
  
The man breathed deeply and cat-like eyes quickly turned to him. “Is something wrong?”  
  
“The opposite. He says he’s hungry. Is it all right?”  
  
Vesemir walked up to them and crouched down before Regis. Dettlaff noticed his friend was calmly watching the witcher. A bit confused perhaps, but his black eyes were calm and lucid. “Who… you?”  
  
“Hello Regis, I’m Vesemir; I’m here to help. I know you’re hungry, but just let me quickly examine you. Is that all right?” The man didn’t move, waiting for an answer.  
  
Regis frowned and looked up at Dettlaff. The younger vampire nodded at him and Regis lay his head back down on Dettlaff’s chest, nodding.  
  
“I’ll be as quick as I can. Dettlaff, uncover his chest, I need to see his wound.”  
  
Dettlaff did as the witcher bid him while Vesemir went to fetch a knife to cut through the bandages. Regis’ body tensed when the human came closer with the weapon, but Dettlaff covered the hand on his chest with his own and squeezed it lightly. **_Safe._**  
  
Regis was still tense, but he nodded and allowed the bandages around his chest to be cut away.  
  
Vesemir hummed, examining the dark patch on Regis’ chest. “Dried. The bleeding seems to have stopped.” Vesemir reached down for the tray that housed the fresh bandages and alcohol and wetted a piece of bandage before gently running it down the vampire’s chest to remove the dried blood. From what Dettlaff could see the wound was still open, but the bleeding had indeed stopped.  
  
“The white honey’s working. You can try to eat something now,” Vesemir told Regis. The human then looked at Dettlaff. “Shall I get something from downstairs or…?”  
  
Dettlaff thought for a moment. “No, what Regis needs is something to help him regenerate. A broth won’t be enough for that.”  
  
“Do you want me to go check on Horse? Give you some privacy?”  
  
“No! I’d rather you stayed close by in case your sign is needed.”  
  
“All right, I’ll just… sit next to the fire then until you call for me.”  
  
Dettlaff nodded and waited for the witcher to position himself. With the knife left behind on the bed he cut his wrist and presented it to Regis, who eagerly clamped down on it, drinking hungrily until Dettlaff felt he had had enough for now, not willing to risk Regis overfeeding.  
  
A pitiful whimper sounded when he pulled his wrist away and Dettlaff soothed his friend with gentle strokes down his arm. “Shh… Small portions for now Regis. Keep this one down and you can have another in a few hours. Rest…”  
  
Regis breathed deeply and Dettlaff feared he would have to call Vesemir to their side, but the other vampire calmed down and nuzzled his face into Dettlaff’s neck, falling asleep.  
  
Vesemir walked up to them. “He’s getting better. I suspect in a couple of days the black blood will have completely left his system. I’ll brew up some more doses of white honey in the meanwhile.”  
  
~*~  
  
Vesemir’s prediction proved true and gradually the black veins were fading. Regis was sleeping for the greater part of the day, but whenever he woke there was recognition in his eyes. Dettlaff was pleased by that part at least, but he clenched his jaw just thinking of Regis’ current state. Regis’ body had suffered a significant setback and his friend was weak and easily exhausted. It was like the end of his first year all over again.  
  
They had settled into a routine by now: give Regis a dose of white honey and a sponge bath, meanwhile the witcher would go downstairs and bring back food and drink for them all, taking the empty tray of before with him. Dettlaff would give Regis some of his blood and try to get him to eat some normal food before the older vampire started drifting off into a healing sleep. Then he and Vesemir would eat together and wait.  
  
Sometimes they would talk softly, other times the witcher would sit next to the fire and take care of his weapons and armour while Dettlaff paced. The witcher pulled out two stacks of cards one time. “Gwent?” They played.  
  
The vampire had thrown his coin pouch to Vesemir the third day of their routine, telling him to take what they owed him for the days before and to use it to pay for their further expenses. He knew witchers didn’t tend to be rich and he and Regis had been living out of Vesemir’s pocket for days now. Time to pay what was owed. Vesemir had hesitated for a moment, before nodding and going downstairs.  
  
When he came back that time he’d brought back a pair of new tunics and leggings for Regis, telling Dettlaff they should try getting Regis up and walking soon, preferably _with_ some clothes on.  
  
On the fifth day of meeting Vesemir Regis was awake for a longer period of time. Dettlaff was sitting next to the fire, listening to his two companions talking, observing the pair…  
  
Black eyes squinted at cat-like eyes. “Vesemir, School of the Wolf?”  
  
Vesemir nodded. “Geralt told you about me.”  
  
“How is he?” Regis looked away, worrying his lip. Apparently the older vampire didn’t remember their earlier talk. No wonder, he’d been so ill then.  
  
“Overall my boy’s fine, though he’s suffering a bout of amnesia. He just appeared earlier this year, not remembering who he was or what he had been doing.” Vesemir held up his hand, motioning Regis to stay down.  
  
Regis blinked surprised. “Is it permanent?”  
  
The witcher shrugged. “From the bits of news that I’ve gleaned he’s starting to remember his past, but so far we’re not sure yet if he will remember everything. It’s wait and see for that one, though he’s still Geralt, no doubt about it.”  
  
The vampire’s gaze turned inward for a moment. “How is the rest of the hansa?”  
  
Vesemir’s gaze drooped and he shook his head. “Milva, Cahir and Angoulême were killed, only Geralt and Dandelion are alive.”  
  
“Ciri?”  
  
A sigh. “We don’t know. Alive last time she was seen.”  
  
Regis nodded and turned his head to the window, his gaze clouded. Dettlaff could feel the **_grief_** strong and clear through their bond.  
  
The witcher grimaced. “I’ll go check on Horse.”  
  
When the door closed Dettlaff went over to Regis and sat down next to him on the bed. A silent offer.  
  
Regis slid closer and Dettlaff raised his arm to pull him in to his chest. Not saying anything, but letting the older vampire work through the news he’d just heard. A pale hand grasped the fabric of Dettlaff’s shirt, knuckles white, while Regis burrowed his head in the crook of Dettlaff’s neck.  
  
~*~  
  
By the end of the first week the dark marks had disappeared from Regis’ body, though Vesemir insisted on the white honey for a few more days ‘just to be sure’. When he prepared a new batch of the potion Dettlaff watched him, remembering the ingredients and the steps Vesemir took to brew it.  
  
Regis managed to stay awake for a decent period of time a few days later. Dettlaff decided that was a good time to help dress the older vampire, careful not to jostle the slowly healing ribs. He pulled Regis out of bed and helped him exercise his atrophied muscles, gentling the exhausted figure afterwards and rubbing his limbs to soothe the aches.  
  
Several more days passed and the number and type of exercises altered.  
  
Currently, Regis was upright and hesitantly shuffling some steps forward. Dettlaff had his own arm wrapped around the thin waist, supporting the older vampire and taking most of his weight. Before the tenth step though Regis’s legs were trembling with exhaustion. The vampire hunched in on himself, his free arm clutched around his broken ribs.  
  
Dettlaff guided him to the bed and lowered Regis onto the surface. “That’s enough, you need more rest.”  
  
Regis shook his head. “No, I need to recover my stamina. I was walking just a month ago, I need to-“  
  
“Recover your health first.” Dettlaff interrupted. “These little exercises are to prevent your body from wasting away further than it already has, but you’re going to have to be patient once more.” He crouched down before Regis, grasped the thin hands into his own and gently rubbed the palms with his thumbs. “See the reason in it, old friend. Rest…”  
  
Regis sighed, but curled his fingers, stilling Dettlaff’s thumbs. Then he looked up towards the brooding witcher sitting in the corner of the room.  
  
Dettlaff followed his gaze. The man had been quiet today, more so than usual. He was sitting next to the window, a sad look on his face and the hands on his lap clenched and unclenched, restless. “What’s troubling you Vesemir?”  
  
Vesemir hummed. “Wondering about the others. We recently all abandoned Kaer Morhen, spreading in different directions to increase our chances of finding the men with salamander pins. I was initially following a trail up north, but when I couldn’t find anything I headed south into Aedirn and Lyria, travelling west over Sodden to here. I have no idea if the others have had more luck finding the bastards.”  
  
Dettlaff cocked his head. “What did they do? The men with the salamander pins?”  
  
Vesemir’s jaw clenched. “Killed my boy Leo. Stole documents that shouldn’t end up in the wrong hands…”  
  
Dettlaff looked up at Regis and saw sadness in the black eyes. His friend’s empathy allowed him to feel deeply, especially for those he cared for.  
  
If Regis had been healthy Dettlaff might have considered offering his help, seeing how the witcher had helped them, but with Regis injured and in the slow process of regeneration he wouldn’t risk it. “We’ve kept you from your purpose.”  
  
Vesemir hesitated for a moment too long before he waved his hand. “The others are also looking and so far I’ve travelled half the Northern Kingdoms without any luck. Do not worry about it.”  
  
Regis noticed the witcher’s hesitation. “Vesemir, you should go. Dettlaff and I will manage. The black blood is gone and you cannot help us any further, though we most certainly enjoy your company. We’ve held you up for long enough, we can see you’re getting restless.”  
  
Dettlaff stood up, letting go of Regis’ hands. “You finish your quest and meet up with your family. Regis and I will travel south, going home to our pack, _our_ family.”  
  
Regis startled. “Home?”  
  
“To Nazair.” Dettlaff confirmed. “We’ll prepare for the road in the coming day, leave the day after.”  
  
“What about Mettina?”  
  
Dettlaff rolled his eyes. “Patience. You will see your books again.”  
  
Regis looked at him, fondly.  
  
“Well I guess there’s nothing for it. I’ll prepare to go back on the road then.” Vesemir stood up and walked to his pile of armour, checking his equipment.  
  
~*~  
  
They were ready. Rested as well as they could and packed for the road. After a quick farewell to Butterman and Theresa the trio found themselves outside, Dettlaff having carried Regis the entire way. The younger vampire carefully deposited Regis on a bench in front of the inn to wait out in the sun, before moving together with Vesemir to retrieve their horses.  
  
Vesemir saddled up his chestnut mare, hanging saddlebags from the equipment and leading her out, while Horse went up to Dettlaff and bumped her head on his shoulder.  
  
The mare looked fine to Dettlaff, well taken care off. “Regis is still injured, but he’s getting better,” he told her, “Today, we’re going home.”  
  
Horse nickered as if in understanding and walked outside. The moment the mare’s eyes saw Regis she wandered over to the pale vampire and nuzzled his cheek.  
  
Regis looked surprised, but his hand lifted and started stroking her soft nose. “You must be Horse. Thank you, dear girl, for all your aid. Quite a remarkable animal you are!”  
  
“She’s got a will of her own all right.” Dettlaff joined him.  
  
Vesemir looked at the pair of vampires, gently stroking his chestnut’s neck. “Well when you’re both up for it you’re always welcome to come up north to Kaedwen and visit Kaer Morhen. Geralt would be thrilled, I know he’s missed Regis something awful before he lost his memory. Even if he hasn’t regained his memories by the time you visit I’m sure the two of them would hit it off again.” He walked over to Regis, holding out his hand. “If you come around winter you’re bound to meet up with us; we tend to return home that time of year and stay there until the spring.”  
  
Regis clasped the hand, used it to pull himself up on his feet and gave the witcher a short hug, patting his back before letting go. “We most certainly will come by and visit. Thank you Vesemir, for all that you’ve done.”  
  
Detlaff scowled. “Perhaps in a few years. Regis needs to heal in peace and I’ll not leave his side until he’s fully capable of defending himself. When he’s regenerated we shall come.”  
  
Vesemir held out his hand to the younger vampire. “I’ll be expecting the both of you up in the north then, when Regis has recovered.”  
  
Dettlaff looked at the hand and hesitantly held out his own.  
  
Vesemir clasped it at the wrist and squeezed gently. “This is goodbye, for now. Take care my friends.”  
  
Dettlaff nodded, squeezing back. “Fare thee well.”  
  
Vesemir then climbed up on his horse and slowly set off in the direction of Brugge, up north, his mount picking up pace after a few moments.  
  
Dettlaff and Regis watched him go; pulled back from their observation by the sound of impatient tapping. Horse was squinting at them, pawing the ground with a hoof. When she got the attention of them both she lowered her front knees to the ground.  
  
Regis looked confused. “What _is_ she doing?”  
  
Dettlaff moved Regis over to the mare, guiding him up onto her back and climbing up himself as well. “Helping out.” He wrapped one arm around Regis to make sure his friend didn’t fall off when Horse returned to all four legs. There was a warm feeling fluttering in his chest.  
  
They were going back to their pack. They were going _home_...  
  
**The end**


End file.
